Harry Potter and the Path to War
by Gryffonfanwriter
Summary: Harry takes charge of the destiny revealed to him by Professor Dumbledore and makes the wizarding world prepare for war with Voldemort. New developments at the Ministry, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts give cause for hope, and dismay. Post-OOTP.
1. Haven't got time for the Pain

Disclaimer - all copyrights owned by others.  
  
Less than a week had passed since Harry had left school for the summer. Harry was a wreck. He hadn't been able to sleep for more than two hours at a time before his nightmares woke him up. He couldn't stand the thought of eating anything other than the odd piece of slightly burnt toast and perhaps a glass of water. He hadn't showered since he arrived at number four, Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, and as the sun slowly rose in the morning sky, Harry knew today was going to be a bad day. Another bad day.  
  
"HARRY POTTER!" Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley, roared with anger. "Get down here and control this ruddy bird before he makes a mess in my kitchen.  
  
Harry sighed, throwing a shirt on, he slowly made his way down the stairs towards his aunt and uncle's kitchen. Looking in he almost laughed at the scene, almost. Uncle Vernon was waving his arms in the air, trying to bat at an owl that was fluttering around the kitchen, a piece of parchment tied to its leg. Seeing Harry, the bird swooped down, landed on Harry's outstretched arm and presented its leg with the parchment to Harry. Harry untied the letter and put it in his pocket.  
  
"Well boy, don't just stand there, send a response so those freaks don't show up again. It's bad enough they showed up last night, I don't want them to set foot in here ever again." Uncle Vernon did not appreciate Harry's friends and protectors. For that matter, Harry wasn't sure if he did either.  
  
Harry isn't like most other boys about to turn sixteen. He doesn't attend a normal school. His Aunt and Uncle try to pretend that he is a juvenile delinquent and that he attends a school for incurably criminal boys. But, in fact, Harry attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry is a wizard, a famous one at that.  
  
When Harry was just one year old, his parents were killed by the evil Dark wizard Lord Voldemort. A deadly spell of Voldemort's aimed at Harry backfired and destroyed Voldemort, leaving Harry with a very special scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Harry's mother sacrificed herself to protect Harry, imparting on him a powerful protection that prevented Voldemort from killing Harry. But unfortunately for Harry, and the rest of the world, Voldemort did not die, he just lost his body.  
  
Twelve years later, under dark and mysterious circumstances Harry was captured by one of Voldemort's servants, the traitor Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew. Wormtail, one of the original Marauders with Harry's father, James Potter, Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, former professor at Hogwarts, betrayed Harry's parents to Lord Voldemort and framed Sirius Black for his own murder.  
  
Hiding for over a decade in his Animagus form, a rat, in the possession of the Weasleys, the closest thing to a family Harry had ever known, Wormtail helped restore Voldemort to power in Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, using a Dark and powerful spell using Harry's own blood to provide Voldemort with a new body and greater powers than ever.  
  
Over the last year Voldemort had been preparing his loyal followers, Death Eaters, and planning for his triumphant return to power in the wizarding world.  
  
Unfortunately for him, Harry managed to thwart his plans once more. Voldemort had managed to lure Harry and his friends, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom to the Ministry of Magic where Voldemort hoped to use Harry to obtain a prophecy about the two of them. Voldemort hadn't counted on the strength and determination of Harry and his followers, or the ineptness of his own vaunted Death Eaters. And Voldemort certainly hadn't counted on the interference of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.  
  
Harry managed to destroy the prophecy, accidentally, preventing it from falling in the hands of the Dark Lord, but at a tremendous cost. During the battle at the Ministry, Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, was struck by Bellatrix Lestrange, escaped criminal from the wizard prison of Azkaban, and fell to his death through a secretive veil in the Department of Mysteries. This fact, that Sirius Black was dead, was the cause of Harry's depression this summer, and this fact was the reason his friends were so concerned about him.  
  
When his Aunt and Uncle picked him up at the train station, they were confronted by Harry's friends. Vernon and Petunia were threatened and warned to take better care of Harry, but no one told Harry to take care of himself. If Harry didn't owl his friends at least once every three days, they promised to come and investigate. Harry didn't realize how serious they were until the fourth night of the summer break when he had forgotten to owl anyone.  
  
---  
  
BAM! BAM! BAM! The front door of number four, Privet Drive threatened to explode as if it were being bombarded by a battery of cannons.  
  
BAM! BAM! BAM!  
  
"Open up this door Dursley. If you've hurt him I'll kill you on the spot!" The bellowing voice of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody echoed through the neighborhood, which was fortunately quiet since it was three in the morning.  
  
"Bloody hell, don't those freaks know what time it is? What is their problem? BOY! WAKE UP! BOY, GET OUT OF BED." Uncle Vernon's voice matched the volume and anger of Mad-Eye's, superceded only by the high pitched shrill of Aunt Petunia begging her husband to lower his voice. They scampered out of their bedroom down the hall towards the room their nephew stayed in when he was at their home.  
  
"The neighbors, Vernon, think of the neighbors." Aunt Petunia whimpered as she grabbed her robe around her, curlers in her hair and a mask of some bluish cream covering her face.  
  
Uncle Vernon threw open the door to Harry's bedroom to find his nephew staring out the window at the night sky. If Vernon had an ounce of compassion he would have noticed the fact that Harry's eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with the faint memory of all-too-recent tears. However, Vernon had no compassion for his orphaned nephew.  
  
"Boy, get downstairs and tell those ruddy freaks that you are okay. Why haven't you been communicating with them in the first place? What's wrong with you?" Uncle Vernon shook with suppressed rage, clearly controlling himself from grabbing Harry and throwing him down the stairs.  
  
Harry slowly turned to his Aunt and Uncle, as if just now noticing the commotion that was erupting around him. "Oh, sorry," he said in a decidedly hollow voice. "I'll talk with them."  
  
Harry slowly shuffled down the stairs to the front door where he could hear Mad-Eye talking with others on the front stoop.  
  
"I'm giving him another minute, then we'll blow down this door and turn them into toads. Dumbledore didn't say they had to stay human all summer. I'll just transfigure them into toads, put them in an aquarium and Harry can still be near his relatives." Mad-Eye seemed very eager to try this experiment when Harry opened up the front door a crack and poked his head out.  
  
"I'm fine. Go away." With that Harry started to shut the front door, only to be stopped by Mad-Eye when he slammed his hand against the door.  
  
"That's not enough Harry. We're coming in." Mad-Eye stormed in, followed by two people Harry immediately recognized, but couldn't say he was exactly thrilled to see. Remus Lupin, best friend of Harry's dead father and dead godfather, and Arthur Weasley, the father of Harry's friends Ron and Ginny Weasley.  
  
"Hiya Harry," Arthur exclaimed with a bright smile. "How are the Muggles treating you? I wanted to use the fellytone to call you, but we didn't have your code or number-thingy. But you didn't owl us, so we had to check. Is everything okay?"  
  
Harry looked at Arthur with something akin to dread, for the first time since meeting the affable man, Harry wished that he would stop talking. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Professor Lupin silently looking Harry up and down, and Harry knew that Lupin saw just how bad off Harry was. As Harry continued to look at Lupin, he was able to see that Lupin looked almost as bad as he felt. His robes, normally tattered, seemed even more dingy. His face was sallow, his hair matted to his head, and his eyes bore a haunted look. But despite the pain that Harry saw etched in Lupin's face, even worse from Harry's point of view, was the concern emanating from the man.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry said hollowly. "It's late, I'm tired. I forgot to write, I'm sorry, I won't forget again. Please leave now I want to be alone."  
  
Even the normally reserved ex-Auror seemed taken aback by the pain in Harry's voice. He bent over to whisper something to Mr. Weasley, something Harry couldn't hear, and Harry winced when he saw tears well up in Mr. Weasley's eyes.  
  
"Look, please, just let me try to get back to sleep, I'll write a letter tomorrow, I just need to be alone now," Harry begged. "Can't you just let me be alone?"  
  
"No Harry," sighed Remus, "you'll never be alone. But if you want us to leave, we'll leave. But if you ever want to talk, please know I'm here."  
  
The anger, ever so close to the surface in Harry's head, erupted violently. "What do you want from me? It's my fault my father died. It's my fault Sirius died. If you get close, I'll find a way to get you killed as well. The only Marauder I seem to know how to keep alive is Wormtail."  
  
With that Harry stormed up the stairs towards his bedroom and slammed the door shut. Tears pouring out of his eyes now, his breath coming in wracking sobs, Harry threw himself on his bed burying his face into his pillow as the pain tore him apart again.  
  
---  
  
Harry snapped out of his reverie, surprised to see that Aunt Petunia had already started making breakfast. He silently picked up the spatula to take over the cooking, and she silently rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment before moving to the table.  
  
"Boy," snapped Uncle Vernon. "I don't want another interruption like last night ever again. From now on every morning you're going to write a ruddy note to those freaks and send it to them with one of those filthy birds, or there'll be hell to pay.  
  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon. I'm sorry Uncle Vernon." Harry sighed. He just wanted to be left alone and no one seemed to understand that, but he knew the only way to keep people away from him right now was to accede to their easier demands.  
  
Once breakfast was prepared he gave his Aunt and Uncle their eggs and bacon and cut up Dudley's grapefruit. Dudley still hadn't woken up yet, and Aunt Petunia seemed in no mood to try to wake her large child. Over the previous year Dudley's temper seemed to grow as much as he did and he refused to do anything his parents asked of him unless it involved a financial incentive.  
  
Harry sat down, pulling his burnt toast apart when Aunt Petunia looked at him and sighed. "Why don't you eat some eggs or bacon? If you only eat toast you'll get sick and those people will blame us."  
  
Harry was surprised that his Aunt seemed to speak with genuine concern, but shrugged her off anyway. "I'm fine," he replied. "I'm not really hungry."  
  
Aunt Petunia seemed prepared to respond to that when Uncle Vernon glared at her and declared that it was time for Harry to get a job.  
  
"You're almost sixteen and you need to develop some useful skills. You can either come to work with me or find something around the neighborhood, but you'll get a job and earn your keep."  
  
"What's Dudley going to do?" Harry couldn't help himself, he had to goad his Uncle whenever given the opportunity. As always, Harry was satisfied because his Uncle started to splutter and get red in the face with indignation.  
  
"Dudley? Work? Are you out of your bloody mind? He has to stay in shape for the school year, we can't have him lose his focus! He'll be a star pugilist if he keeps at it, not that you'd know anything about winning anything." Vernon snarled at Harry and stomped out of the kitchen.  
  
"You know if you didn't provoke him, it might actually be quiet in the morning," Aunt Petunia said as she looked at her eggs. "I mean, really Harry, why do you insist on provoking him? It's best if you just leave it be."  
  
Harry was stunned. His Aunt Petunia seemed to be talking to him civilly. He quickly glanced around the kitchen to see if someone else had entered the tiny kitchen when he wasn't looking.  
  
"Stop that," Petunia snapped. "I know we don't talk often, but that Lupin person told me what happened to you. While I can't pretend to understand, or believe, half of what he said, I do understand that you lost someone very important to you. I know you are grieving. I know you need space. So I've found you a job to keep your Uncle happy and give you some time to yourself. You'll go work at the local park, cleaning the trails and clearing brush. You start today in an hour. Go get changed and I'll drive you there today, but after today you get there on your own."  
  
Harry was not capable of responding. His Aunt seemed to show some compassion for him, for the first time in his memory she seemed to be a decent human being. He picked up his plate, placed it in the sink, and walked upstairs to change.  
  
When he got into his bedroom he saw Hedwig sitting on the windowsill, a letter tied to her leg.  
  
"Hiya girl, I'm sorry I haven't sent you anywhere, but the only person I want to write to, you can't reach." Hedwig nipped at Harry's fingers, rubbed her head on his hand and presented her leg to him. To Harry's surprise there was a letter tied to her leg. Harry reached for the letter and slowly opened it. It was a letter from Ginny.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Good morning. Hedwig showed up at the Burrow this morning and woke  
  
me, much too early I'll have you know. At first I thought she had a  
  
letter from you, but there was no note. When I started to stroke her  
  
head she clamped her beak down on my hand and dragged me to my desk.  
  
I sat down and she started pulling out parchment and a quill, so I  
  
decided to humor her and write you a note. Your owl is very smart,  
  
and very protective of you. You are lucky to have her.  
  
Harry paused while reading the letter and looked with astonishment at his bird. She certainly was a great owl and he knew she was very smart. He continued to read the letter.  
  
Things here are interesting, to say the least. Fred and George are making a killing at their joke shop, they've started to buy things for Mum and Dad to improve the Burrow. Nothing extravagant, but just some nice new things for once. Mum is constantly in tears telling me how proud she is of them and how she can't believe she didn't support them in their dreams. I think she's secretly glad they didn't join the Ministry, but won't ever admit to that. I know I am.  
  
Charlie is transferring back to England. Charlie is bringing several of his dragons with him, and some of his dragon handlers. He won't tell me, but I think Dumbledore asked him to come back because he's worried about. Again, no one will tell their little baby sister. Sigh.  
  
Last night at dinner Dad said that he, Moody, and Lupin were going to  
  
check in on you since you haven't written. We're not worried yet,  
  
it's only been four days. But you better be okay.  
  
Ron is absolutely beside himself that you haven't written, but if you  
  
tell him Hedwig came to me and not him I swear I'll hex you into next  
  
week. Did you send her or did she come on her own?  
  
Anyway, Harry I know how much pain you must be in. Please let someone  
  
in, write back to me. Call Hermione. Write to Ron. Write to  
  
someone. You need help and we are here for you when you are ready.  
  
Well, Hedwig seems satisfied with the length of this letter because  
  
now she's impatient to be off. I'll stop here and send her on her  
  
way.  
  
With love,  
  
Ginny  
  
Harry sighed. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to feel. The only thought that ran through his mind was that he had to respond. Then he remembered that he had another letter in his pocket from the morning. He opened that up and as he looked at the familiar handwriting, anger welled up again. It was a letter from the Headmaster.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I understand that you do not want to hear from me right now, but I  
  
cannot let that dissuade me from writing to you. I do hope you read  
  
this letter.  
  
Alastor informs me that he, Remus and Arthur made their late night  
  
visit last night. I am pleased that you are unharmed, but I hope you  
  
will avail yourself of communication with those who love you. Please  
  
be sure to inform me if there is anything you need.  
  
Unfortunately, I do have some business to attend to, and need your  
  
assistance. I am asking this not as Headmaster or under the auspices  
  
of the Order, but as an old wizard who has failed you in many ways.  
  
Last year you admirably started a new club to subvert your classmates  
  
to your cause and fight the injustices of the departed, but not  
  
lamented, Ms. Umbridge. It was declared an illegal club. As  
  
Headmaster I have lifted that designation, and hope that you will  
  
consider forming that same club again this coming school year. I fear  
  
that we will need to have a corps of trained individuals prepared to  
  
do battle with Voldemort and his followers. As I learned from my  
  
observations of your DA classes, you are a natural teacher and a  
  
gifted leader. Whatever support you may need from the teachers, or  
  
myself, will be provided. I do hope you will consider this request.  
  
I would also like to inform you, with great pleasure, that your  
  
lifetime ban on playing Quidditch has been lifted, and you will be  
  
free to rejoin your House team this coming year, if you so desire.  
  
Finally, we have some business to discuss, you and I, but alas I do  
  
not feel comfortable doing it by owl post. If it is agreeable with  
  
you, I will come to your Aunt and Uncle's house soon to discuss these  
  
other matters.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus  
  
Harry seethed with anger. There were so many implications and presumptions wrapped up in this letter that Harry wasn't even sure where to start being angry. He quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and scrawled a hasty note:  
  
Dumbledore:  
  
I don't know.  
  
We'll see.  
  
It is not agreeable, but when have you ever listened to what I wanted  
  
in the first place?  
  
Harry  
  
Harry then decided to write to Ginny.  
  
Ginny,  
  
Thanks for the letter, I didn't know Hedwig left. I guess she knows  
  
you can write better than Ron.  
  
I'm fine.  
  
I just need to be alone.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Harry  
  
Harry wrapped up both letters and gave them to Hedwig. "Deliver Ginny's first, though I know she'll be unhappy with it. Then go to school. Don't wait for a response from him, he can use another owl. You are too good to deliver mail for him."  
  
Sighing, Harry then changed clothes and made his way back downstairs to his Aunt Petunia. She silently gathered her things and walked him out to her car. Driving through town, she pulled in to the little park that had a small pond and tiny copse of trees where residents would walk through the woods to commune with nature.  
  
As Harry stepped out of the car, his Aunt leaned over and gave him a bag. "You'll be looking for Mr. Smith, he's your boss. Here's your lunch, don't expect this every day, but you didn't have time to make it today. I'll see you tonight, I assume you can walk home from here?"  
  
Harry silently nodded his assent and closed the door. His aunt slowly drove away, leaving Harry in silence as he pondered her newfound generosity. His reverie was interrupted by a large man who emerged from the woods, with an axe and a rake over his shoulders. For a moment he thought it was Hagrid, somehow shrunken to a more normal size, but quickly realized it must be his new boss, Mr. Smith.  
  
"Are you the Potter boy? Mrs. Dursley told me you'd be by today." The man's voice was mildly curious and had the tenor of a man used to late nights of heavy drinking and smoking cigars. Harry nodded, and extended his hand. The man placed the axe in Harry's hand, surprising Harry who had expected a handshake.  
  
"I want you to go about 50 yards into the woods and start chopping up the tree that fell during the last storm. Turn it in to firewood length and we'll give it to those who can't afford the proper amount of coal for the winter."  
  
Harry turned toward the woods and started marching through them, heading towards what he hoped was the right direction. As he made his way forward, he saw the tree that had fallen and sighed. It was an immense tree and it was likely to take him days to chop up this tree.  
  
Randomly picking a spot, he hefted the axe and started chopping. The axe made a satisfying crunch into the fallen tree, and Harry was able to concentrate solely on the heft and swing of the axe. All other depressing thoughts that had been overwhelming him for the past week slowly faded as he lifted the axe and let it fall, again and again.  
  
Having lost track of time and place, Harry was startled when Mr. Smith approached him a few hours later, motioning with his hands to put the axe down.  
  
"Good lord, boy, what are you doing? Don't you have any gloves?"  
  
Harry looked down at his hands and saw blood weeping out of his palms, blisters having burst and been rubbed raw. Harry shrugged, barely registering the pain.  
  
"No, my Aunt didn't give me any. I'm fine. Just leave me alone. I'll be okay."  
  
Mr. Smith looked at him curiously and reached behind him, grabbing a pair of thick leather gloves.  
  
"Here kid, use these, your hands will be a wreck if you don't wear gloves, and there's no way you'll be able to do anything tomorrow by the looks of it. Why don't you take a break and have your lunch. You've chopped up half the tree, something I though would take you a few days by the look of you. I guess you have a wiry strength."  
  
Chuckling to himself, Mr. Smith turned to walk away but paused when Harry cleared his throat and sheepishly hung his head.  
  
"I'm sorry sir, but is there somewhere I could clean up? I don't particularly relish the idea of eating like this."  
  
"Oh, well, sure, how stupid of me. C'mon, I'll show you the loo and you can get washed up and find a drink."  
  
Mr. Smith stomped ahead, now chuckling more heartily and chiding himself for being so stupid as to forget to point out the important things to Harry when he first showed up. "All work, I am, all work," he sighed.  
  
As they got to the park center, Mr. Smith motioned Harry ahead to the loo. Harry went in to wash his hands, and as he ran the cold water over his hands, the pain from the open sores started to burn. Harry's eyes watered at the sensation, but he quickly finished and wrapped his palms in paper, when the blood quickly seeped through he added additional layers until he couldn't see the blood anymore.  
  
Walking back put, Harry realized he was sore and hungry. Hungrier than he had been for days. He quickly sat down next to Mr. Smith and tore open the package his Aunt had given him that morning. Wincing at the contents, Harry resolutely lifted the sandwich to his mouth.  
  
"What do you have there boy? That's no meal fit for a growing boy. Here, my wife always packs me two sandwiches in case I don't come home on time and need an early evening lift. I'm heading home on time tonight so I'll be fine. Go on, take it."  
  
Reluctantly Harry accepted the sandwich, and slowly started eating. It was surprisingly good and in no time he had finished the entire sandwich, the most he'd eaten in the past week. Probably more than he'd eaten all week.  
  
Sighing, Harry made to stand up when Mr. Smith placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pressing him back to his seat.  
  
"What's your hurry boy?" Harry shrugged. "You don't have to get back to work just yet, you get at least a half hour break, if not more. It's a small park, there's not much to do, and besides it is a nice day, why don't you enjoy it a little. Sure looks like you could use some relaxing."  
  
Harry sighed again but quietly sat, looking out across the park at the pond. He could hear children playing in the swings just beyond the pond. The sound of pure happiness seemed to hit Harry like a wave and just as quickly overwhelmed him. His eyes watering and hands trembling, he pushed himself up and in a quiet, shaking voice addressed Mr. Smith.  
  
"If you don't mind I'd like to get back to work," and he silently walked away from the table back into the woods.  
  
Reaching the fallen tree, Harry picked up the axe and started swinging it again. Before long he had entered another trance-like state and was able to forget the happy sounds of the children, and the pain that he was carrying around in his head.  
  
---  
  
The next morning his muscles protested as he climbed out of bed. His arms were tired from hefting the axe all day long, his hands stung with pain from the open sores, and his head pounded from the sensory overload of the morning sun. It was the sun that alerted Harry to the fact that something was different. He had slept through the night. The nightmares, if he had them, didn't wake him up. The nightmares that had prevented him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time since the night Sirius died, somehow were kept at bay. Harry almost wept at the thought that he had managed to sleep the night through, but then remembered why he hadn't been able to sleep in the first place, and this time he did weep. He cried bitter tears at the memory of his beloved godfather, dead because of him and his stupid, impulsive behavior. As the tears poured down his cheeks, he was startled out of his misery when he felt a hand softly rest on his shoulder.  
  
"Harry," his Aunt Petunia sighed, "it will get better. I don't know how, I don't know when, but it will. You better get downstairs, you need to pack a lunch and get to work."  
  
Bewildered by his aunt's behavior, Harry stumbled into the bathroom and quickly showered. The dirt and grime from yesterday's labors took a harsh scrubbing, but Harry felt somewhat refreshed when he walked downstairs.  
  
"Boy," snarled Uncle Vernon, "where's your letter? I want to see it and then watch you send it."  
  
Harry silently handed the letter to his uncle who quickly read it.  
  
Whoever Hedwig brings this to:  
  
I am fine. I want to be left alone.  
  
Harry  
  
"Well boy, it doesn't say much does it? But if it keeps those freaks from my home, I don't care what you say. Now send it and get to work."  
  
Harry whistled and Hedwig came flying down to him. He tied the parchment to her leg and quietly whispered to her, "Here girl, take this to whoever needs it." He handed her an owl treat and she silently flew out the window.  
  
Sitting down, Harry glanced up in surprise when his Aunt gave him a plate of eggs and bacon. He quickly devoured the meal, and got up to clean his plate when she whispered to him to remember to pack a lunch. Harry quickly made a sandwich and dashed out of the house.  
  
Making his way to the park, he saw Mr. Smith lounging at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper. Noticing Harry walking toward him, Mr. Smith got up, smiled at Harry and motioned him to the shack near the woods.  
  
"I want you to finish that tree today, since you made short work of most of it yesterday. Then, after lunch, we'll walk the trails and I'll show you a few tricks of the trade."  
  
Harry nodded his agreement, grabbed the gloves Mr. Smith had given him the day before and picked up the axe. Harry quietly turned and marched toward the woods. Reaching the remnants of the tree, Harry was amazed to see how much he had accomplished the day before. He understood now why he was so exhausted and why his arms ached. The pile of wood he had created was immense and most of the tree was already chopped. Shaking his head to himself he hefted the axe and started back in on his work. Happy to lose his mind to the repetition of the labor.  
  
When he finished the tree and placed all the wood in a neat pile, Harry slowly walked out of the woods, looking for the first time at his surroundings. It was a clean and healthy wooded area. A nice variety of trees and underbrush, and the atmosphere was very peaceful. Sighing he emerged from the woods, blinking at the harsh glare of the sunlight on a perfectly clear day.  
  
"Ah, there you are Potter, let's eat and then we'll take a walk. I do hope you brought a better sandwich today, I think my wife made my favorite so I'm less inclined to share." Mr. Smith chortled at this statement, and comfortably sat down at the small table. Harry pulled out his lunch, an improvement over the lunch his Aunt had made the day before, but certainly not as delicious as something a house elf could make. But it was filling and sufficed Harry quite well.  
  
"You're a quiet one, aren't ya?" Mr. Smith asked with a smile. "That's fine, I talk enough for two, or three as my wife would like to say. Let's head to the trail and I'll show you my park."  
  
For the rest of the afternoon, Mr. Smith and Harry walked through the small park, around the pond, and then through the woods. Mr. Smith talked all afternoon pointing out interesting plants, places where animals lived, paths that people preferred over others, and where teenage boys liked to take teenage girls.  
  
"Now I normally chase them out of here, but if you want some privacy, well, you just let me know. I know how to make myself scarce." Mr. Smith laughed at the blush that crept up Harry's face. "Don't worry son, don't worry. I won't tease you if you have a certain someone you would like to entertain, Lord knows that's how the Missus and I got started." Chuckling, Mr. Smith placed a familiar hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it gently.  
  
"You're so placid, a girl would do you well, loosen you up a bit. Maybe even make you smile." With that Harry did smile, and Mr. Smith howled with laughter again. "See boy, that'll always do the trick, a nice night, a nice girl. All your worries will melt away. Well, it is quitting time, we've spent more time walking the trails than I thought and I need to get home. You have a good night, I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Harry nodded his farewell to Mr. Smith and started walking towards Privet Drive. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize how quickly he was getting there until he bumped into his Headmaster who was waiting for Harry in front of the Dursley house.  
  
"Good evening Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, "how was your day at work?"  
  
Glaring at him, Harry resented the intrusion. "I'm fine," he snapped. "Can't you leave me alone?"  
  
Albus Dumbledore wearily sighed, "No Harry, unfortunately I cannot. We have much to discuss. Can I enter your home or should we go elsewhere?"  
  
"My home is Hogwarts. My home is the Burrow. This is my prison and YOU have sentenced me here. So as my jailer, you can come or go as far as I know. Does your magic allow you to enter? You certainly have caused me enough harm, if your precious magic is supposed to protect me, then it should throw you out on your arse." Harry stomped past his Headmaster and stormed up into his room.  
  
Dumbledore silently followed Harry, quietly closing the door to Harry's room and sat down at the small desk that was covered with parchment and books on curses, jinxes, and hexes.  
  
"Interesting reading Harry. These are very advanced books."  
  
"Well, you want your weapon in fine form, right?" Harry seethed. "After all I'm just a tool. I have to be sharp so you can throw me at your enemies."  
  
For a second Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes glaze over with tears, and irrationally Harry felt a surge of happiness that he had cause the old man such pain.  
  
"Now what do you want? I'm tired, I need to shower, and I need to read some more."  
  
Dumbledore looked at Harry for a while, obviously contemplating what, or how, he was going to start. The conversation did not start the way he wanted and he was struggling for a way to regain his momentum.  
  
"Well, Harry, as you know I have resumed my role as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Thanks to you and your friends, and Alastor, Andromeda, Remus, Sirius and others, we have a few important trials to conduct. I have come to ask you to be a witness, but I will understand if you refuse. You are a minor and we cannot compel you to testify, nor should we if we were able. However your testimony would be crucial to a clear verdict and punishment."  
  
Harry glared at Dumbledore, "Who?"  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, and others that you helped capture. They are being tried for their crimes and I hope to complete this before the summer is over and I return my attention to Hogwarts. I am also reopening the case of your godfather, to prove his innocence so his name can be cleared"  
  
"In case you forgot, it's too late for that. He's dead. I killed him. What does it matter if his name is cleared?"  
  
"Harry," Albus sighed, "you bear no more responsibility for Sirius' death than you do for the rising of the sun. Voldemort manipulated you, I failed you, Professor Snape failed you, and the wizarding world failed you. Again. We have discussed this and I will continue to remind you of these facts as long as necessary.  
  
"As to why I am clearing your godfather's name, it is simply because it is important to you. True, it serves no purpose for the fight against Voldemort, but it will allow you some sense of closure, some sense of right. And it might possibly make you happy. As I told you before I have strived to find things to make you happy. That I have failed in the past does not mean I will not continue to make these attempts."  
  
Harry looked at the ancient wizard and felt the sadness and resolve emanating from him. Knowing that he was being unfair to the most powerful wizard alive, he coolly glared at him.  
  
"Fine. I'll testify so those bastards rot in jail forever. I'll testify to clear Sirius, though you should have done this, oh I don't know, BEFORE HE DIED. Now leave, I want to be left alone."  
  
Turning his back on his headmaster, Harry stared out the window, thinking of the night that led to Sirius's death. He heard Dumbledore sigh and slowly get up, silently closing the door as he left.  
  
And Harry wept. He wept for himself, for being alone. He wept for Sirius, dead because of him. He wept and he wept. And he finally succumbed to sleep.  
  
---  
  
The next several days were very much the same. Each morning Uncle Vernon would demand to see a letter. Each morning Harry would present him with the same letter  
  
I am fine. I want to be left alone.  
  
Harry  
  
Hedwig would deliver the message and Harry would go to the park and spend the day in demanding physical labor, exhausting himself physically and mentally so that he could collapse when he returned to Privet Drive.  
  
His friends from school sent him letters. Every night he got a letter from Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville. He didn't read any of the letters. He wasn't prepared to open himself up to the pain that he knew each letter would cause. He sent them all the same response to each letter. "I'm fine. I need to be alone."  
  
However, since he initially responded to Ginny he didn't get another letter from her. He supposed that was appropriate since his letter was less than friendly, but he tried not to give it another thought. He failed.  
  
---  
  
At the beginning of his third week in captivity, Harry started to wonder if Dumbledore would let him leave the Dursley's soon. If he was going to testify at the trials of Malfoy and the other Death Eaters, he certainly wasn't going to return here. He could stay at the Burrow, or get a room at the Leaky Cauldron or maybe stay in Hogsmeade, if Dumbledore wouldn't let him stay at Hogwartsthe castle, that is.  
  
As Harry left his usual hard day at the park, he grinned as Mr. Smith drove by in his car.  
  
"See ya tomorrow Harry!"  
  
"Good night sir." Harry watched the car speed away, glad that it was another exhausting day.  
  
"How touching," a whiny voice snarled from the shadows. "Potter has manners."  
  
Harry whirled around, glaring into a shaded area.  
  
"Who's there," he demanded while reaching for his wand. Harry was reassured when his hand grasped the slick wood he kept within easy reach.  
  
"Show yourself now!"  
  
"Temper, temper, Potter. My Master has a message for you." With that statement Harry gasped as he saw Peter Pettigrew slink out from the shadows.  
  
"How do you know where I am?" asked Harry, who was starting to worry if this was a feint for a larger attack of more Death Eaters or if it was just Wormtail alone.  
  
"You forget that I was friends with your parents. I knew your mother had a sister, and I knew that she got married. It was easy to track you down. My Master has a message for you."  
  
"You already said that rat, get on with it before I decide to practice what spell I am going to use to kill your Master."  
  
"Brave words, Harry, but you know my Master cannot be defeated. My Master wants to let you know that he knows where you live, he knows about your precious prophecy, and he is eager for your death."  
  
"That's it? Pretty pointless message he sent, traitor." Harry was shaking with rage. "Your master is a liar, a phony, a fool, and powerless against me. He can try to run, but he can not avoid the truth. He is wrong, and he is doomed. We both know it."  
  
"Well, there's one other message," snarled Pettigrew raising his wand. "Crucio!" He shouted. The spell shot out of his wand racing towards Harry. Harry flinched and tensed up, but the expected agony never reached him. A soft white glow enveloped Harry, and Harry was aware of a soft murmuring of comforting voices, and the scent of a fresh spring rain. There was a bright flash where the curse Wormtail had thrown at him hit the white nimbus, and with a loud snap the red beam was deflected straight back at the traitor.  
  
Pettigrew flinched as the curse hit him and he screamed in agony. His body flopped to the ground and Harry could see the lines of pain stream across his face, Pettigrew's body contorting and writhing in agony.  
  
Two loud cracks, the sound of two wizards Apparating came from behind Harry. Harry tensed, threw himself to the ground and pointed his wand behind him, shouting "Stupefy" as he fell. He heard a man grunt with pain as Harry's spell hit him and a loud thud as the body fell to the ground. Harry rolled around, preparing to take aim when he heard the commanding voice of Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry, stop. You are safe. Get up and come over here."  
  
Harry turned, saw the Headmaster, and silently obeyed. As he walked towards the Headmaster, he glared in to his eyes.  
  
"How can you say I'm safe?" He demanded. "Voldemort knows where I am, we've put my Aunt in danger and I'm no longer safe."  
  
"I disagree," Dumbledore said mildly. "Turn around."  
  
Harry angrily glanced behind him and saw Pettigrew still writhing on the ground, caught in the clutches of the Cruciatus Curse, his breath coming in agonized gasps, his arms and legs bent in excruciating angles as pain ripped through his body.  
  
"What's happening to him, Professor? That's not a normal curse. He couldn't have that much power."  
  
"Harry, this is the protection your mother so desperately paid for. Any offensive spell cast against you rebounds to the caster and the effects are multiplied. Only you can release the spell faster, if you choose. All you have to do is cast the Finite Incantatem spell."  
  
Mad-Eye groaned from the ground, he was the second wizard who had arrived with Dumbledore, the one Harry had stunned. "With Pettigrew in custody, it will be easier to clear Sirius, Harry. It might be a good idea to release him before his brain turns even mushier than it already is."  
  
Begrudgingly Harry cast the spell, and was somewhat relieved to see the contortions of Wormtail's body subside. Dumbledore quickly cast several spells over Wormtail, to prevent his escape, and put a port key on his hands. Within seconds Pettigrew disappeared.  
  
"I have sent him to Azkaban pending his trial," said Dumbledore. "Fortunately I was able to force to removal of the Dementors from that island, and it is a safe prison again."  
  
Mad-Eye got up from the ground, giving Harry an appreciative look as he dusted himself off, "Good instincts there, Potter. Good instincts. Nice stunner."  
  
Harry gave him a small smile before turning to Dumbledore. "And what's your excuse for not telling me about this? Was I bait, again? Were you hoping it would be Voldemort?"  
  
"Harry," sighed Dumbledore, "I know you are still angry me, but must every conversation we have be so hostile? I see it must." The great wizard sighed sadly before continuing.  
  
"I didn't tell you about the specifics of the protection because I had hoped it would never be enacted. I didn't tell you how to end the reversal of the spell because I wouldn't have thought either you, or myself, would ever want to keep any of your attackers from harm. I assumed that any fool Voldemort convinced to attack you while you were in your Aunt's care would deserve the agony caused by your mother's protection."  
  
Dumbledore paused while taking in the shocked expression on Harry's face. He smiled slightly and chuckled before continuing.  
  
"Oh yes Harry, the wise and mighty Dumbledore also has a bit of a cruel streak. I knew about the rebound effect of your mother's protection, and I knew that whoever dared to cause you harm would be so deserving of the agony, so deserving of the retribution, that I neglected to inform you of it. Plus I also knew that I would arrive immediately after the protection was activated, so I could inform you of this option if necessary.  
  
"I have no regret that Voldemort sent Peter to test the power of this protection. I only wish it had come at a different time. Were it not for the need of Peter's testimony, I would have gladly let him sit in agony until the spell wore off. After the betrayal of your parents, the framing of Sirius, the harm he caused the Weasley family, and his role in restoring Voldemort to a body, I find myself empty of sympathy for Peter today. Most importantly, he has caused you too much pain, too much anguish, for me to feel anything but contempt for his choices. There would be a savage justice in letting him stew in a spell of his own making."  
  
Stunned, Harry didn't know how to react to his Headmaster's bloodthirsty smile. He quietly looked from Dumbledore to Moody, uncertain of what to say next, when Moody barked a laugh and grabbed Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Harry, we were not anticipating this, nor did we know Pettigrew knew of your location. If we had, you would have been informed. You have earned that right. Unfortunately Dumbledore and I were together because we have been summoned, as have you. I'm sure your owl will show up soon with the proper documentation."  
  
As if summoned by his words, Hedwig appeared, gently dropping a large document in Harry's hands. Curiously Harry unrolled the parchment, not recognizing the handwriting.  
  
Law Offices of Dewey, Chetum, and Howe  
  
Attorneys, Advocates, and Rapscallions at large  
  
Harry James Potter  
  
Number Four, Privet Drive  
  
Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
England  
  
Dear Mr. Potter:  
  
You have been identified as the primary beneficiary of the last will  
  
and testament of Sirius Black. We are responsible for certifying the  
  
distribution of his assets and properties.  
  
Mr. Black specified that his will be read at the first rise of a new  
  
moon after his death. According to our lunar calendar that event will  
  
occur this evening. Therefore your presence is formally requested at  
  
12 Grimmauld Place at 10 p.m. this evening. Should you not attend,  
  
your claim to the Black Estate will be forfeit and those bequests in  
  
your name will be distributed to Mr. Black's other heirs.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
I. Preferta Chetum  
  
Attorney at law  
  
Tears welled in Harry's eyes as he realized the implication of what this letter was saying. Although he knew it to be true, now he was officially being notified of Sirius's death. The pain that had so successfully been beaten back by days of hard labor and dreamless nights came rushing back with an intensity that scared Harry, shaking him to his core. And in less than 3 hours he was going to have to sit through a legal pronouncement declaring him to be an orphan once more.  
  
"Sirius is dead, and it's all my fault," Harry whispered to himself. Clearing his throat, he blinked the tears from his eyes and glared up at Professor Dumbledore. "Am I allowed to go to this or do I have to stay here for my safety?"  
  
"No Harry, we will all go to this together. While I am still concerned for your safety, this is an important event for you. And when this night is through, you and I will need to talk. With Peter imprisoned, I'm afraid Voldemort will attempt to link to your mind again, sooner than I would have hoped. We will need to start your Occlumency training again. But that can wait until after tonight."  
  
With a heavy sigh Dumbledore pulled out a long feather from his robe. It reminded Harry of Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. "This is a port key to 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry. We will use it together to travel there tonight. Do you want to leave now, or perhaps we should inform your Aunt of your whereabouts so she doesn't worry?"  
  
"Whatever, she won't worry," mumbled Harry, lost in his own thoughts and private pain. Moody grumbled and stomped off to the Dursley residence. Minutes later he came back grumbling about ill-mannered Muggles, but stopped when Dumbledore shot him a dark look.  
  
"Alright then, let's grab hold and we'll be off."  
  
Harry touched the feather, feeling the warmth he associated with Fawkes, and suddenly the quiet joy of Fawkes' song played through Harry's head. Suddenly the jerk at the navel that Harry always felt when travelling by port key pulled at Harry, and he found himself whisked away from Little Whinging.  
  
---  
  
Harry, Dumbledore, and Moody arrived at the landing of 12 Grimmauld Place with a silent thud. Dumbledore opened the door and Harry and Moody followed him in past the entry to the large common room.  
  
Harry was startled to see a crowd already there, chagrined to see it was the people he considered to be his family.  
  
The crowd grew quiet and turned as one to look at Harry, Dumbledore, and Moody. The startled expressions on their faces showed Harry that he was not expected this early, and he could sense the tension in the air.  
  
"Harry!" exclaimed his best friend Hermione Granger as she ran toward him, almost knocking him over as she grabbed him in a hug. "We've been so worried. Your notes have been just awful, how could you shut us out like that? Mr. Weasley says that you look terrible, and I have to say that he's right. Are you okay? I mean, of course you are not okay, just look at you."  
  
Hermione slowly stopped talking, realizing that Harry hadn't said a word or returned her hug. He was just standing there, his arms hanging limply, a hollow expression on his face. He wasn't even looking at her, he was looking at a picture of his godfather, Sirius, one that Mrs. Weasley had hung after Sirius had died.  
  
"Bloody hell, mate, you look awful." Ron Weasley, Harry's other best friend, stepped up beside Hermione, his eyes darting between the two of them, sensing the tension from Hermione and the emptiness from Harry. Ron reached out to grab Harry's shoulder, but Harry flinched away, slowly making his way to the portrait of his godfather.  
  
"I'm sorry we couldn't make it a normal portrait," Remus said as he stepped behind Harry. "But Sirius was already. . . gone when it was finished. He didn't cast the spell to place an imprint on the painting."  
  
Remus also tried to place his hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry flinched away. Looking at the dark corridor lined with the heads of house elves, Harry felt wave after wave of pain hit him.  
  
He was in Sirius' house. Dumbledore imprisoned him here, like Harry was imprisoned at the Dursley's. Kreacher was here, somewhere. Kreacher who caused so much pain, so many problems. Harry wanted to reach out and cause someone as much pain as he was feeling right now, he wanted to lash out, he wanted to scream.  
  
And so he did.  
  
"CAN'T YOU ALL JUST LEAVE ME ALONE? I CAN'T. . . I WON'T. . . I DON'T WANT ANYONE AROUND ME RIGHT NOW. I JUST. . .SIRIUS IS DEAD AND NOTHING CAN EVER CHANGE THAT. I CAN'T GO ON, I DON'T WANT TO GO ON. . ."  
  
Harry ran weeping up the stairs, burst into Sirius' bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and collapsed to the bed. Waves of agony washed through him as he wept. Tears flowed like rivers out of his eyes. He gasped for air and shook with pain as he succumbed to the horrible realization that he couldn't control the pain any longer.  
  
Harry sobbed and cried and wept, and he ignored the passage of time. He could have been weeping for minutes, or hours, he didn't know. The terrible agony of his loss wrenched at his heart and soul until he couldn't bear it any longer. And then he wept some more.  
  
---  
  
Several uncomfortable minutes passed as the group listened to Harry's tormented cries. Ron and Hermione held each other close, slightly jumping at each wail of pain from their best friend. Hermione wept freely, tears flowing down her cheeks. Ron's eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he tried to fight back his own pain. As another wail of pain burst down the stairs, Ron lost his battle, clutching Hermione closer, he wept with his friends.  
  
Remus Lupin's eyes shone with tears, his chest stopped each time Harry screamed in agony, and the hair on the back of his neck stood upright each time Harry sobbed. A low growl erupted from his throat, the wolf rising up in shared pain with his pack. His fists clenched in rage as he stood helpless to protect the only child the Marauders would ever know.  
  
Albus Dumbledore slumped into a chair, his face worn, his eyes defeated. He groaned with every sob heard from upstairs, and winced each time Harry coughed, gasping for air.  
  
Fred and George Weasley silently stared out the window, unsure of where to look or what to do. Their thoughts racing as they tried to think of something to lighten the tension that filled the room. Nothing came to mind, and they both sighed at the bitter taste of defeat.  
  
Ginny stood in the doorway, resolutely looking up the stairs, her body swaying with the tempo of Harry's cries. Each time he paused, gulping in air, her head bowed in silent synchronicity to his agony. At every wail her head snapped up, tears streaming down her face. Every sob caused her face to twitch. She felt each breath of Harry's as a blow. Each tear was an open wound. Every cry a stab of pain.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was wringing her hands, pacing back and forth across the room, as Mr. Weasley tried to comfort her.  
  
"We have to do something," fretted Molly Weasley. "We can't let him be like this, we have to help him. I have to do something. I am going to talk with him."  
  
Determinedly she started towards the stairs. Dumbledore rose, as if to object, when Ginny rested a hand on his arm.  
  
"Excuse me professor, but I'll handle this," she said calmly. "Mother, sit down. You can't do anything for him. Harry doesn't realize this, but you cannot comfort him right now. You cannot make his pain go away. You cannot help him. He needs you, but not yet."  
  
Mrs. Weasley stared at her daughter, unsure of what to say to the carefully controlled witch in front of her. Who replaced her little baby girl with this determined young woman?  
  
Hermione pulled away from Ron, sighing and prepared to make her way up the stairs.  
  
"Not you either, Hermione. You can't help him right now. The only person that can talk him off this ledge is me. We'll be right back"  
  
With steel in her voice, the determined witch marched up the stairs and silently opened the door to the bedroom Harry was in. Somewhat shocked at the sound of the weeping and gasping for air coming from Harry, Ginny slowly shut the door, and waited for Harry to pause.  
  
Harry finally realized that there was another presence in the room with him. Without even looking he turned his head, and cleared his throat.  
  
Standing up, he muttered "Go away. I need to be alone."  
  
"Harry, we are going to talk about this," Ginny said. "You have upset everyone, and we have to talk. You can't go on like this. You've barely eaten, you don't sleep unless you are exhausted, and you've yelled at just about everyone that has tried to talk with you."  
  
"I AM NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT ANYTHING!" Harry shouted. "I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. . . I'VE LOST EVERYTHING, I KILLED HIM. SIRIUS IS DEAD. . . BECAUSE OF ME. . ." His precarious control long since abandoned, tears streamed down his face. His breath came in gasps as he verbalized what he'd been thinking and feeling over the past few weeks.  
  
"I just. . .It's MY FAULT. My godfather is dead and. . ." with that Ginny stormed over and did the most unexpected thing, Harry never even saw it coming, she slapped him.  
  
"You selfish bastard," she quietly fumed at him. "How dare you do that? How dare you think that? You have no right."  
  
A red welt appeared on Harry's face as his hand gently touched the spot Ginny had so brutally smacked. His anger, a crescendo of pain and guilt, seemed to pale in comparison to the anger that was emanating from Ginny. Not for the first time did Harry see the comparison to Ginny's mother in this tiny witch in front of him. And for the first time he understood why every Weasley male was scared of Molly and terrified of Ginny.  
  
"I don't understand?" She said coldly, and quietly, her rage barely kept in check. "I don't understand what it is like to have Him in your head? I don't understand what it's like to feel guilty for the harm caused by my own actions that He forced on me? I thought we had covered that ground Harry Potter. I thought we had an understanding. But apparently you are too childish, too self-absorbed to understand something so simple."  
  
"Bu-u-u." Harry spluttered.  
  
"Did I say that I was finished? Did you think it was your turn?" Ginny glared at Harry, her arms crossed, her entire body poised to reach out and crush him. "You will sit down, shut your mouth, and listen to me like you've never listened to anyone in your life or I will make you wish that every Death Eater on the planet was hitting you with the Cruciatus at the same time. Do you understand me? DO YOU?"  
  
Harry was unable to respond to the calm fury that this tiny girl, no, woman was throwing at him. He stumbled backwards and fell into an armchair.  
  
"Harry James Potter, I asked you a question, I expect a response. NOW!" Ginny's voice cracked with authority and Harry dazedly nodded his head to indicate his assent.  
  
"You have violated many things lately Harry, and you will understand what you've done when I'm through with you. Then you will be allowed to speak, and then you will be allowed to apologize. You will pay attention and you will take my advice, otherwise Merlin help you because I certainly won't."  
  
Ginny calmly pulled a chair over and sat down, rubbing her face to relieve the stress and pressure that she felt. The anger that had been boiling in her since she received Harry's inadequate response to her letter threatened to explode again, but she held it firmly in check. For now.  
  
In a deceptively calm voice she continued.  
  
"Since term ended we have all been worried about you. Mom, Dad, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Luna, Neville, and Professor Dumbledore." At the mention of the Headmaster's name Harry opened his mouth as if to speak but the fierce glare from Ginny made him shrink back into his chair.  
  
"The owls we sent, Dad's visit, you've tried to push us all away. All we got was the same message: 'I'm fine. I want to be alone.' Well we can't leave you alone you stupid prat. We absolutely can't. We need you Harry, we need to help you, we need to be with you, we need the security of knowing that you will be okay."  
  
Harry's anger exploded and he jumped from the chair, "I'm sick of everyone thinking they own a piece of me, that I'm just some stupid tool they can pull out when they need it. 'Good Harry, sit here' 'Bad Harry, don't do that'. . ." His anger faltered as Ginny raised her hand as if to strike him again, tears welling in her eyes.  
  
"I've told you once that you were going to listen, and so help me if you interrupt again you selfish, insufferable fool." What scared Harry most about her tone was the deceptive mildness with which she spoke. It made the furor of Uncle Vernon seem mild, the cruelty of Lucius Malfoy seem lighthearted, and the hatred in Voldemort's mind benign. He sat down again, drained of his anger.  
  
"Do you understand how much my mother loves you? Do you know that from the day she met you at the Hogwart's Express she took you into her heart and has never let go? With every adventure she never knew who she was more worried about, you or Ron, or now me and Hermione too? When she's around you her eyes never leave you, she always reaches out to smooth your hair, rub your back, and grab you into a great big bear hug to try and provide you with some warmth, some love, some way to let you know that she loves you as a mother loves a child.  
  
"Dad is the same way, but he shows it by asking you an endless list of questions about those silly Muggles. New inventions, uses of 'eckletricty,' or how things work. He just can't stop talking to you. I know you think it is his fascination with Muggles, but it is really just an opportunity for him to talk with you, to show you his way of love, to try to provide a father figure to you that you so desperately need. But you are too afraid to show that you need him, or just don't know how. You never knew a parents love, but he wants you to have it.  
  
"And then there's Ron. He has Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, even Percy. Why would he need another brother? He even has a silly little sister near enough his own age. Why add another sibling in his mind? Because you became his friend without knowing who he was. Sixth brother to a poor family. Head Boys, Prefects, Quidditch captains, dragon raisers, curse breakers, class clowns, every time Ron turns around another brother has done it first. But you didn't care. He was nice to you, probably the first person to be nice to you outside of Hagrid, and you rejected Malfoy for him. No one of your reputation, your wealth, your heritage, should ever have refused a Malfoy for a Weasley, but you did. And you have stayed his best friend through all of the horrible adventures, and you have helped him grow into the good man he is today. He loves you more than he loves any of his brothers, but he's such a git he can't even say it.  
  
"Hermione, your sister. Different parents, sure, but she is your sister nonetheless. She's insufferable, but you love her. She's always right, and you still love her. She's always been there for you, and always will be. And you know it. And it scares you. You want so badly to protect her that it hurts, I know. I see the look you give her every time I look into Ron's face. Or Bill's, or Charlie's, even, still, in Percy's. Fred and George cover it best with their jokes and laughs, but when the times get tough, it is there. And it is overwhelming, but reassuring that someone loves you that much. And she knows that love from you. Do you feel hers in return?  
  
"I can't even describe Remus. You have hurt him more than anyone, I think. He feels such a tremendous amount of pain for you Harry. He lost his best friends because of that monster. First your parents, and at the same time he thought Wormtail a dead hero and Sirius an imprisoned traitor. Then he finds out Wormtail is the traitor and Sirius a martyr. For a brief time they were able to experience the joy of their friendship, and then it gets cruelly taken away. Again by that monster. He tried to reach out to you, to comfort you, to try to fill a void that can never be filled. And you cruelly reject him. And yet he still loves you.  
  
"And finally the Headmaster. I know you are angry with him, I know you think you hate him, but have you ever seen, can you even see, how much he cares for you? When we came up out of the Chamber he only had eyes for you. He was pleased I was alive, glad that Ron was safe, vastly amused that Lockhart lost his memory, but his entire focus was on you. He wouldn't leave Madam Pomfrey alone, he kept checking in on you. All behind the scenes, of course. For some reason he didn't want you to know. And on that horrible night when Cedric died. Oh Harry, when you came back, clutching his body, I thought Dumbledore was going to die. He was SCARED Harry. Imagine, Albus Dumbledore, he defeated Grindelwald, and he was scared because of you. When that impostor snatched you away, Harry, it was so confusing. People were screaming, crying, yelling. But I was there, near him, and Harry, I was scared. Terrified.  
  
"I lived with Tom Riddle in my head for almost a year and he never made me as terrified as at that moment when Dumbledore realized you were gone. The power he has, well, it's just awful. He was so determined, so forceful, it was like a wave shot through the crowd, and they parted to give him room. The air was alive with the power.  
  
"I know you feel he has let you down, and I can't pretend to understand all that has gone on between you two, but I don't know if you can understand the love that Professor Dumbledore is trying to show you. It is the love of a parent for a child. I know it is not fair, you've never experienced it, but the way he tries to protect you, but is it any different than the way Mum or Dad protect me or Ron?  
  
"So many people love you Harry. Let them. They are ALL downstairs, hurting in their own way because of you, and FOR you. Each one of them, they are all downstairs weeping for your pain, hurt by your loss, devastated for you. And because of you. For the past few weeks all you have done is lash out at those that love you, care for you.  
  
"Harry, I could go on for every other person you know. You have found your way into the hearts of many people. And they have found their way into yours. That's what makes you so special, and so vulnerable.  
  
"So you got tricked. And you caused pain and suffering. Join the club. He's the most powerful Dark wizard ever. The fact that you couldn't discover his trick is not your fault. The fact that you got fooled by him is not your fault. You were 15 years old, you'd been abused, mistreated, ignored, mocked, taunted, and you were having dreams and visions that you couldn't, or wouldn't, talk with anyone about. He is a master manipulator and he found out how to manipulate you. He violated you in ways more profound and more lasting than any physical harm he could have done to you.  
  
"I know. I have nightmares to this day about that damn diary. I see Tom laughing at me, forcing me to free the basilisk, making me kill the roosters, and destroy your room. In my nightmares you don't make it down into the Chamber, and I become him. I see him rampage the world through my eyes using my hands, my wand, but part of me is still there, separate, knowing the evil he is causing, screaming at the pain and terror, but unable to do anything. Usually I wake up when he makes me kill my Mum or Dad, sometimes it takes more deaths and destruction. And I realize it is just a dream, but it is SO real.  
  
"So I know the guilt you feel, but you have to get over it. Sirius is dead, and that is horrible and my heart screams out in agony for him, for you, for all of us. But you have to accept that he's dead, accept that it is not your fault, and move on. Remember the good times you had with him. Though too few, there were good times. Talk with Remus, gather up other memories of Sirius, remember the good, don't forget the bad, but always remember the good.  
  
"You'd give up your life for all of us, we know that, but we don't want you to give up your life for us Harry Potter. We want you to live for us. Live with us. We love you. Love us. Stop being the Boy Who Lived and be the Boy Who Lives."  
  
Ginny's eyes were sparkling with tears as they slowly streamed down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, walked over to Harry and kissed his forehead, brushing her lips on his scar.  
  
"The pain will subside, it will get easier. But it will never be gone. It will never be over. You have to take small steps and move forward. Sirius wouldn't want you to stop living because of him.  
  
"Your family will be downstairs waiting for you to join us when you are ready." And she silently left the room, closing the door on the bewildered Boy Who Lived. 


	2. Where there

Chapter Two - Where there's a will, there's a way

Harry could not understand what had happened. His cheek still throbbed from where Ginny had hit him moments ago, and his tears seemed to have finally subsided.

Silently staring at the door, wondering if Ginny was out there waiting for him to open it up, he started moving toward the door. As he reached out to open the door, he was startled by the sound of a throat being cleared behind him. Spinning, reaching for his wand, he saw that the room was empty. Confused he looked around, and saw the form of Phineas Nigellus appear in the portrait hanging above Sirius' bed.

"What are you doing here," Harry demanded. "That's not your portrait. Were you listening in to our entire conversation? Have a good laugh?"

The portrait sighed. "Why do they always think everything is always about them? I told Albus that teenagers are not worth the bother. We really should develop a spell to skip them through those awful years."

"Did you have a point or did you just stop by to insult me?" Harry was not in the mood to be bothered by this annoying man tonight.

"I heard the commotion and came up to investigate. I don't think it is much of a stretch for me to tell you that my great-great grandson would not want you to wallow in your grief like this. You are being distracted from more important things and there's nothing you can do to bring him back." Phineas looked at Harry with sorrow and shrugged his shoulders.

"I know it is hard for someone your age to understand, but death happens. Especially now. You are at war and people die. Good ones, bad ones, young, old, innocent, guilty, all are at risk of being killed deliberately or by accident. If you let the deaths of those you love overwhelm you, Voldemort will have an easy way to incapacitate you and he will win."

"So I should just accept it, forget about it, forget about how much I loved him, forget that he meant my freedom, forget that he was a direct connection to my parents, forget all that he meant to me?" Harry's anger started to rise again and he glared defiantly at the portrait.

"Did you listen to anything the pretty little read-headed witch just told you? Of course you don't forget any of it, that would be inhuman. You may be a compulsive and idiotic boy, but you are not inhuman. You cherish the memories of Sirius, you mourn his passing, and you move on. Otherwise you will lose yourself and the world will be lost in Voldemort's shadow."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked with suspicion. "I thought you'd appreciate that. All of the rest of the Black family seems to be aligned with that monster."

"I owe a debt to Hogwarts, a debt to Dumbledore, and I owe a debt to you Harry Potter."

"T-t-to me?" Harry spluttered. "Why me?"

"Yes, to you. Unless I am gravely mistaken, and I assure you I am not, when your godfather's will is read this evening you will understand. Until then, let's just say that I understand your pain on the loss of Sirius, share it even, and want you to find the strength to move on. With that, I must be going. We will speak again about this."

"Wait," Harry begged. "What do you mean? What does Sirius' will have to do with anything? Where are you going?"

But it was too late, Phineas had already left and the portrait was empty. Sighing, Harry turned toward the door once more and left the bedroom.

---

As Ginny pulled the door firmly shut, her hand trembling, she rubbed her face and turned towards the stairs. She was startled to see her mother calmly standing at the top of the stairs, one hand fiddling in a pocket of her robes.

"Mum," Ginny exclaimed. "What are you doing there? I thought I asked you to stay downstairs."

"I did," Molly said, her eyes shifting away from her daughter's gaze, "but then I thought that you might need my help. So I came up here and I waited."

"Mum, are those extendable ears? Were you eavesdropping?" When Mrs. Weasley shamefully nodded her head, Ginny surprised her mother by giggling.

"Did you think I stormed up here to start snogging him? Honestly mother."

"N-n-no!" spluttered Mrs. Weasley. "I wanted to make sure you didn't accidentally make things worse. Harry is in a precarious place and, well, when did you get to be so wise?"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes misted as she stared at her daughter, a young lady she could no longer call her baby girl.

"Ginevra, you were wonderful. You were perfect, better than anyone could have been. I just hope that poor dear was able to listen to you, able to hear you, and understand. Oh I just worry about him so much. And you, my precious daughter, you were just wonderful."

Grasping her daughter in a bone-crushing hug, Mrs. Weasley held on to her daughter with the unbreakable force of a mother's love. Slowly she relaxed that grip, and started giggling softly.

"How hard did you hit him? In this contraption of your brother's it seemed like you slugged him halfway across the room. What did his face look like, he must have been stunned."

Her giggles quickly shifted to uproarious laughter at the picture of her tiny daughter smacking the world's most famous teenage wizard, trying to bring some sense to him. Ginny joined her mother's laughter, the two of them giggling and chortling as they slowly headed down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, the others stared with amazement at the two laughing witches and crowded around them in disbelief.

"Gin? What happened up there, we heard yelling, and then we couldn't make anything out." Ron grabbed his sister with his free hand, Ginny casually glanced at his other hand which was intertwined with Hermione's. Ron blushed and quickly let go of Hermione's hand before grimacing and grasping it again.

Hermione was blushing as well, though Ginny could tell that it was not out of embarrassment, but rather out of humor at Ron's reaction. "Gin, please tell us, is Harry okay? What did you say, what did he say? Oh we have to know, we just have to."

With a sigh Ginny flopped onto a nearby couch and waved everyone to their seats. "We talked, we yelled, there were tears."

"And a good slap to the face," interrupted Mrs. Weasley, to the gasps of the crowd.

"Seriously mother, did you need to mention that? Anyway, there is not much I can say, it was a very private conversation between us, but I explained to him that we all cared about him, that we shared his pain at the loss of Sirius, and that he needed to move on. And I told him we were ready to be there for him when he was ready to accept that."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, its significance not lost on Ginny, but she pointedly ignored their smirks. Her father had grabbed her mother in a big hug, whispering softly to her as Mrs. Weasley sighed and stared at the stairwell, wishing Harry to come bounding down the stairs to join his family.

Professor Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Ginny, sighed and swept to the kitchen. "Perhaps I will join Alastor in the kitchen and see about preparing a snack for us. It has been a trying evening, and I know it is a long night ahead of us still."

Ginny's mother, father, and the twins, joined him, asking Ginny to let them know if Harry came down. Professor Lupin crossed the room and sat down on the sofa next to Ginny, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you Ginny," he murmured, "thank you for trying to help him. I don't know what we'll do, but we can only try to help him. James and Lily, now Sirius, I have to do something, anything. I know the agony he's been going through, but I keep holding on to the thought that I might be able to help, it's all that got me through the past few weeks. I just hope you were able to break through. I can't stand another note that says 'I want to be alone."

Ginny grabbed her favorite professor in a fierce hug, and as she felt his arms grab back, she felt the added weight of Ron and Hermione join in the tight circle. They sat there for a few minutes, comforted by the closeness to each other and in their shared concern for Harry. They were startled by the sound of a throat clearing and a low chuckle from the doorway.

"Don't mind me," Harry said. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

All heads snapped in his direction, searching, probing, looking to see how Harry was. Ron was the first to find his voice, prying away from the group hug he stood and looked at his best friend.

"All right there Harry?" he asked hopefully.

"No," sighed Harry. "But I will be, mate, I will be. I just don't want to be alone again."

Tears erupted again from Ron's eyes as he ran across the room, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and enveloped him in a teeth-rattling hug.

"You won't be mate, I promise. Just don't push us out again. No matter what..." Ron's statement was interrupted by the thud of Hermione colliding into the two of them, her arms wrapping around them as she wormed her way into their embrace. Eyes glistening, she looked into both sets of eyes and smirked.

"Honestly, you two, none of us will ever be alone so long as we have each other."

Harry looked over to where Ginny still sat on the couch with Professor Lupin, and motioned her over to them with one hand. She shook her head slightly, wanting to give the three of them their moment, but Harry again motioned with his hand and beckoned her with his head.

"Ginny too," he said. "She helped me realize what a stupid prat, I think it was, that I have been. She made me realize that I've been hurting more than myself lately. Thanks Gin, thanks for everything."

Reluctantly Ginny walked over to the trio, and they opened up their embrace to include her. Words weren't necessary, and the four of them just held on to each other, relieved that Harry was no longer alone, no longer blocking out his friends.

After several minutes, Harry pulled away and asked the others to leave him alone with Professor Lupin. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each grasped him gently on the shoulder, acknowledging his need to talk with the werewolf. As they left the room, Ron reached for Hermione's hand, causing Harry's eyebrows to raise and a slow smile creep across his face.

"Oi, Ron, we'll need to talk about that too," he grinned, enjoying the bright flash of red explode around the tips of his best friend's ears.

---

Professor Lupin?" Harry suddenly felt very tentative, worried about the hurt he had cause his godfather's best friend. "I want to apologize and ask you a favor."

As a smile slowly appeared on Professor Lupin's face, Harry felt as if he could see the muscles in the weary man's body relax. His hair seemed to soften, and the bags under his eyes disappeared. It was as if Lupin had gained 15 years of his youth back instantaneously.

"Harry, I think it would be safe for you to call me Remus, I no longer work at Hogwarts and we don't have to be so formal." Remus quietly sat down on a couch near the fireplace and motioned for Harry to join him. Harry walked over, sitting down so he could face the fire and Remus. Taking a deep breath and setting his shoulders, preparing for a difficult conversation, Harry looked at the last Marauder.

"Remus, then, I am sorry. I'm sorry for snapping at you when you visited. I'm sorry for ignoring your letters. I'm sorry for getting your best friend killed." Harry paused as he saw Remus preparing to interrupt and looked sharply at the man.

"No, I need to accept my share of blame for that night. I know I didn't kill him, I know Sirius made choices too, but he wouldn't have gone if I hadn't been so foolish as to go there in the first place. I'll never forgive myself for that, and I'll never forget the lesson I learned. But I know now that I have to keep moving forward. Sirius would want that, I think.

"So, again, I'm sorry. I lashed out at you when all you were trying to do was help. That was stupid, and I regret that. And I need a favor. I need to know more about my parents, more about Sirius, more about you. I've spent too many years being told my parents were less than worthless, that I was useless, by my Aunt and Uncle. Since I found out about Hogwarts, about everything, no one has really told me much about my family. What I saw in Snape's Pensieve hurt, I couldn't understand it, I still can't understand it, but I've learned more from him than I did from Sirius, or you. And that's not right.

"I need to know what they were like. Where I came from. I don't know, I guess it will make me feel less alone, less like an orphan. I mean, I know I have the Weasley's, and Hermione..."

"And me, Harry, and me," Remus interrupted, eyes glistening as he reached across and grabbed Harry's hand. "I'll always be there for you Harry, as best as I'm able. I can't be James, I can't be Sirius, but I'll do what I can so that you never think of yourself as alone."

Harry awkwardly reached out to Remus and they embraced in a rough hug, neither sure if this was the way to express their new bond, but satisfied that this was sufficient.

Harry heard the door from the kitchen creak open and he turned to see who was entering the room. His heart raced a bit and he sucked in his breath when he saw the venerable headmaster quietly enter the room.

"Remus," Harry said. "If you don't mind, we need a few minutes."

Nodding, Remus stood to leave. "We only have a few minutes before the will needs to be read, Harry, so please make it brief."

As Remus walked toward the kitchen, the headmaster sat down in a chair near the couch where Harry sat. As he started to speak, Harry silenced him with the wave of a hand and a deep sigh.

"Professor, we have a lot to discuss. You have your agenda and I have mine. We can't finish it this evening, and I'd really prefer that we not start until we can finish it at the same time." Harry paused, glancing nervously at his headmaster. When Professor Dumbledore did not respond, Harry continued.

"But first I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for some of what I've done and said to you. I was hurt, scared, angry, and who knows what else. I still am."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for the first time in weeks. "Only some Harry?"

Offering a tiny smirk, the headmaster nodded to his favorite pupil. "I understand, and I too apologize. We can continue this conversation at a later date, but the things I must convey carry a certain urgency. Could we perhaps have dinner tomorrow evening, after your day at work?"

Harry reluctantly nodded. He had hoped that Dumbledore would allow him to stay at Sirius' home, or perhaps go to the Burrow. But he remembered the events of that afternoon with Wormtail and agreed that perhaps it was best if he returned to Privet Drive.

"That's fine, Professor. And thanks."

"Thank you Harry, I shall look forward to dinner amongst the Muggles."

As Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair, the doorbell to number 12 Grimmauld Place rang, and for the second time that evening, Harry felt a sense of dread.

---

Harry walked to the front door and opened it. In the shadows of the night stood a squat individual with the familiar toad-like features of Dolores Umbridge. With a loud gasp he moved to slam the door shut, horrified that the horrible little woman had managed to find the headquarters of the Order. As he grasped the door, the tiny individual stomped by him, harrumphing as she walked by.

"Really Mister Potter, you look like you've seen You-Know-Who. May I introduce myself, my name is Imogene Preferta Chetum. As you know, I am the attorney for your departed godfather's estate. Pleased to meet you. Where may we conduct the will reading?" With a businesslike manner she quickly marched into the sitting room, plopped down her briefcase and sat.

Harry was still too stunned to speak. He silently closed the door and followed after the tiny witch. Staring at her, he did not know what to say when Ron and Hermione came rushing in from the kitchen.

"Harry, who was at the door? Ron and I were going to..." Hermione stopped midsentence as she saw Ron's horrified expression as he looked at the newest person to arrive at Sirius' house.

"You...you...how dare you...how did you..." Ron raised his wand, prepared to cast any number of spells, hexes, or jinxes at Harry's nemesis from the previous year. Hermione gasped as she too was struck by the familiar features present on the witch in front of her. Slowly she examined the witch, and satisfied that it was indeed not Dolores Umbridge, she quickly grabbed Ron's wand arm and pulled it down.

"Honestly Ron, she can't be her. Dumbledore wouldn't allow HER to enter this house." Turning to address the witch who was bemusedly gazing at the troubled trio, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Pardon me madam, but you have us at something of a disadvantage. You look remarkably similar to an old acquaintance of someone we knew and we were startled. May I inquire as to your name?"

A high-pitched, childish giggle erupted from the witch. She turned to look at all three teenagers before trying to catch her breath.

"Oh my, oh my, I should have thought ahead, I should have realized. My sincerest apologies Mr. Potter. As I said, my name is Imogene Preferta Chetum. Or should I say my full name is Imogene Preferta Umbridge Chetum. But please call me Preferta, or Preffy. That is my, well, preferred name.

"I know that the three of you have met my dear twin sister," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The miserable, obnoxious, despicable, and wretched Dolores. Hag. I forget that not everyone knows that she and I are indeed twins, though we haven't spoken for about 25 years. Ever since we graduated, we have never spoken. She was very disgruntled when I was made Prefect and she was overlooked. Of course her Head of House was a rather intelligent person and quickly saw through her obvious maneuverings.

"I do hope any physical similarities will be overcome by my sincerest regard for you Mr. Potter. My kind, that is to say half-breeds, owe you a great debt. Were it nor for your continued battles against the Dark Lord, well, we'd just be doomed."

"Half-breeds?" Ron was stunned. "What do you mean? She hated anyone who wasn't pure blooded. She didn't even seem to like muggle-borns. How could she have been a half-breed?

"Oh Ron," sighed Hermione. "Isn't it obvious? Umbridge and Mrs. Chetum are clearly part-human and part-..."

"Oh, if you don't mind, my dear," sweetly interrupted the attorney. "We girls must have some secrets, don't you think? Thank you. Now if we could be off to business, I would like to get this started.

"Mr. Potter, you are obviously present. And I can presume that you are Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley? Yes? Excellent.

"We'll need to gather Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur, Molly, Ginevra, Fred, and George Weasley, Severus Snape..."

"Snape?" exclaimed Harry. "Why would we need him? They hated each other!"

"Temper, temper, Mr. Potter," said Severus Snape as he walked entered through the front door, smirking at the trio. "Well, well. If it isn't the illustrious trio. Never separate, are we?"

"Severus, that's enough!" The authority that emanated from Professor Dumbledore was enough to end the conversation. Professor Snape quietly swept to the back of the room and sulked into the corner.

Seething, Harry glared at Professor Snape and then looked at his headmaster.

"I want him out as soon as this is over. I do not want him fouling up this house."

Not even waiting for a response, Harry sat down on the couch nearest Preferta, motioning Ron and Hermione to sit with him. As the Weasley's and Remus followed Professor Dumbledore in from the kitchen, Sirius' attorney checked each name off of her list.

"All we need now is Alastor Moody. Excellent," she said as he stomped in from the kitchen, "and Nymphadora Tonks."

An extremely loud crash from the hallway, as Tonks tripped over the umbrella stand announced her presence.

"Excellent!" cried the attorney. "Now we can begin. Obviously, with an estate the size of the Black Family trust, there are many files, many bequests, many pieces of paperwork to go over. Tonight's activities are limited to specific items and funds that Mr. Black wished to disperse upon the event of his demise. Mr. Potter, as the primary beneficiary of Mr. Black's estate, you and I will need to meet soon to go over in detail particular items.

"First, I would like to thank you all for arriving, Mr. Black had specific instructions as to what would occur were you not to arrive, and in particular I am appreciative that Professor Snape has arrived. I'm not sure it would be entirely legal for me to cast that particular series of hexes and jinxes on an individual."

She pointedly ignored the muffled giggles that emanated from those gathered in front of her. The scowl on Snape's face made Harry glad that he was there to see it.

"Now, let's see. Each of you has an individual letter from Mr. Black that he asked you to read at this point in time. Let me pass them out before I continue with the remainder of the will."

Having said that, the tiny woman carefully handed each individual a scroll. As Harry watched the progress, he dreaded the moment that came when Mrs. Chetum handed him the scroll with his name on it.

Dear Harry,

I am hoping that this never reaches you, or at least not until we've  
had a few more years together. However, I have learned from  
the fortunate mistakes made by my parents and decided to spend some time  
preparing my will in case I ever manage to get out of this accursed  
house. You see, my mother, despite her loathing for me, never managed  
to legally disinherit me. She apparently never got around to writing  
her own will. When she died while I was in Azkaban, the entire family  
estate went to me. That's fortunate for me, and you, if you are  
reading this letter.

Now, since I am still a wanted criminal (damn that insufferable Fudge)  
I'm sure there will be some formalities for Preffy to go through with  
you. While I can't access my funds personally, you as my heir will be  
able to get them. Don't worry about it, she's brilliant and will help  
you through everything. I trust her with everything important to me,  
and that includes you.

So first, let me apologize. I'm sorry I was locked away in Azkaban  
all those years. I'm sorry I wasn't able to rescue you from your  
horrid Aunt and Uncle. I wish that we could have spent some time  
together while you were growing up. I would have loved to have been  
there when you first got on a broom on your own, it had to be amazing!  
Your father loved to fly more than anything, he said it gave him a  
sense of serenity and clarity. It was the only thing he truly loved  
as much as he loved your mother, and, of course, you.

And finally, since you are reading this, I'm sorry that I'm dead. I  
imagine it had to do with Voldemort and this accursed war we face. I  
can only hope that you are safe, that you have the time to grow up, to  
laugh, to play, and to enjoy your life. You have faced so much, too  
much, and you will face more. I know. I know what the stupid  
prophecy has to say, and I know how much Dumbledore believes in it.

I also know that your parents did too. That's why they went in to  
hiding and that's why I made them switch Peter for me as secret  
keeper. Your mom was sensitive to that particular gift. No, she  
wasn't a seer or prophet, but she could sense things. She knew truth.  
It was eerie, Harry, very eerie. She could tell when we were hiding  
things, especially when we were preparing pranks, how we felt. I  
think that's part of how they came together, your mum and dad. When  
he was head boy and she was head girl they had to spend so much time  
together, and she could see the truth around him. She saw that he  
wasn't the arrogant Quidditch player, or the obnoxious bully, or the  
rich pure blood. She saw him as the man he was, the kind, sensitive,  
leader. The kind of man people looked up to because they knew he  
would point them in the right direction.

The kind of man you are, Harry.

I know you've not had an easy life, I know it has not been fair to  
you. Your parents robbed from you at such an early age, abandoned  
with those crazy Muggles. Your first taste of your heritage and  
suddenly you are stalked by the dead memory of an evil wizard. And  
then it happens again.

And then a crazy man escapes from an inescapable prison, tracks you  
down, scares you half to death, and you find out that he's your  
godfather, innocent, and needs your help. Not to mention everything  
you went through last summer. It's enough to send anyone around the  
bend.

But you've managed to overcome everything that's been thrown at you.  
I hope you keep that strength, Harry. The world needs you to keep  
that strength, but more importantly, your friends need you to keep  
that strength.

That's another gift of your father's, the ability to make friends so  
easily. Me, Remus, even traitorous Peter, we were a disparate group  
but became the best of friends. I see that with Ron, Hermione, and  
Ginny. They all adore you, look up to you, worry for you, and love  
you. I know you'd jump in front of an ogre for any of them, and  
they'd return the favor. Cherish those friendships, Harry. They are  
all that matters. Not prophecy or Voldemort, not even money.  
Friendship is the most important thing. That, and love.

Your parents had that in abundance, and you know that is your legacy.  
The amount of love your mother had for you still surrounds you, still  
protects you. It is a powerful energy, and you are multiply blessed  
by it. And I send my love to you as well. Despite my death, never  
doubt for a minute that I'm not watching over you, cheering you on.

But enough with this morbidity. Let's get down to those more mundane  
earthly things. You're rich Harry, I know. Your parents left you a  
king's ransom and a lengthy heritage. The vault you have access to is  
only part of your inheritance from James and Lily. When you graduate  
from Hogwarts you will receive more money. You'd never have to work  
again.

And with my death, now you have even more. If your parents were rich,  
well, then I'm filthy with it. The most noble house of Black has a  
long history and a ton of gold. Preffy will give you immediate access  
to the vaults once she has taken care of my other bequests. You'll  
have more money than you know what to do with, as if you don't  
already. You also get the house. There are other properties that  
come with the estate, some grand, some less so, but the house is  
yours.

The only request I have of you Harry is that you spend some of the  
money immediately. Frivolously. Do something wild and crazy, throw  
Galleons off the roof if you need to, but do something fun and  
unexpected. Do it in memory of me, in memory of the Marauders, and do  
it to make you laugh.

You didn't have enough to laugh about as a child, and you don't have  
enough to laugh about now nearing adulthood. Take some time this  
summer and find something fun to do to go crazy. Take Ron and  
Hermione. (And find a way to get them to admit what they feel, they  
need to feel the joy of love.) Find yourself a girlfriend (maybe  
Ginny? Your father certainly had a weakness for redheads, maybe you  
do too?).

As I said before, Harry, I hope you never get this letter. But if you  
are reading it, know that I love you, and I will love you forever.

Sirius

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Harry looked up from the letter and glanced around the room. Remus was also softly crying, but also laughing to himself at points as he read and re-read his letter. Sirius had obviously made several jokes in Remus' letter. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley also had tears in their eyes and Mr. Weasley was quietly shaking his head. Hermione's eyes were glistening as she kept reading her letter, which seemed to go on much longer than Harry's. A brief surge of jealousy must have flashed across his face because she leaned over and showed him the letter.

"He gave me his library, Harry. Hundreds of books. All mine. He asked me to talk with you about keeping them here until I have a house of my own, and then he listed all the books in the library. Can you believe it, all those books are mine!" Her excitement caused Harry's jealousy to fade immediately.

"Of course you can keep them here Herms, you don't even need to ask. I'll give you a key to the house so you can come and go as you please." Harry was pleased with the thought of sharing his new home with his best friend, and looked forward to the thought of rummaging through the library with her, seeing what was in the inventory. He looked over at Ron who was staring with amazement at his letter from Sirius.

"He's absolutely nutters, he is. Bonkers." Ron said, shaking his head. "Harry, do you think this is some kind of joke? Was he toying with me?"

"Why Ron, what did he say?" asked Harry.

"Well, he says he gave me a new Firebolt, my own Quidditch set for practice, and he left me, well, he says he left me with some Galleons. But he can't have been serious, could he?"

"How much Ron, what'd he leave you? He says he was filthy rich, or his family was, so I can't imagine it was a joke."

"Well," whispered Ron, "he says he left me with 10,000 galleons. All I have to do is promise to buy Hermione a new book every Christmas and birthday, buy you a new Chudley Cannons poster every year, and anonymously send a bucket of dead things to Professor Snape at the beginning of term each year. But I'm not allowed to repeat an animal or whatever I send him."

Harry burst out laughing at the last statement, convinced that his godfather was the funniest man he ever knew.

"That's brilliant Ron, bloody brilliant! What are you going to send this year? Oh, we'll have some fun with that!"

Ron joined in his laughter, and Hermione, after giving them both a scandalized look, joined in the laughter. They laughed so hard the unknowing object of their ridicule glared at them and huffed.

"What did that criminal say to you that was so funny?"

Harry glared at the hated Potions master, his eyes spitting fire at this man who hated Harry because of the memory of Harry's dead father.

"He wasn't a criminal, as you well know. And what he had to say to us is private. Why are you here, what did Sirius leave you?" Harry was very curious as to what Sirius would have left Professor Snape.

"That too, is private," sneered Professor Snape.

"Well then, if you are not in the mood to share, Sirius left this house to me, and I suggest that you leave my house immediately. You are only welcome when there is a meeting of the Order, and since that is not happening tonight, I request that you leave, now."

Fuming, Professor Snape whirled from the room, stomping across the house and slammed the front door shut as he left.

Harry smirked, satisfied that he managed to win a confrontation with Snape. He was pleased that Professor Dumbledore did not interrupt their argument, and for once did not seem prepared to scold Harry for his disrespect of a teacher.

Mrs. Chetum gathered the attention of the group in the room by clearing her throat in a manner that still sent chills down Harry's spine.

"Hem, hem." She paused while all eyes turned to her. "If I may. Now that Professor Snape has left, for Mr. Black's will to be complete I must ask each of you to lift a glass in his honor, that was his last request."

She waved her wand and there appeared a tray of mugs filled with butterbeer. Harry gladly passed the mugs around to each of the people in the room, taking one for himself. He paused, wiping a tear away from his eye, he looked at each person in the room.

"I think I know what best to say, something that would make Sirius proud." He grinned before continuing.

"To Sirius," he started, "I solemnly swear..." as he paused to catch a breath he was startled by the sound of everyone's voice joining his in a chorus of laugher.

"...that I am up to no good!" the crowd shouted in unison.

Remus walked over to Harry, placed his arm around Harry's shoulders and whispered to Harry.

"To Sirius! Mischief managed."


	3. Recovery and Preparation

Chapter three - Recovery and Preparation  
  
Harry smiled at Remus as he absorbed the warmth and affection from his friends and family. It was a feeling he was not quite accustomed to and not entirely prepared for after weeks of loneliness, anger, and depression. Harry couldn't quite believe how close he had come to locking these people out, and realized how fortunate he was to have everyone in this room in his life.  
  
Shaking his head to himself, vowing not to let something like what he'd been through over the past few weeks separate him from them again, Harry realized that there was something else he needed to tell his friends. He set his shoulders and walked over to Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor? Can I have a minute?" he asked.  
  
"Of course, Harry. What is it?" Professor Dumbledore said with a smile.  
  
"Well, I was thinking about what we talked about in your office and I realized that I need to talk about it with my friends. I can't afford to keep it bottled up and they need to know about it. I realized tonight that I'll always be stronger with my friends than I can be alone and I need to share this with them."  
  
Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry for several moments. His clear blue eyes gazing intently at Harry before a fond twinkle appeared in them.  
  
"Of course Harry, of course you can tell Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley."  
  
Harry interrupted. "Ginny, too, she has that right as well."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more. "Ms. Weasley as well. I daresay that I would have anticipated that you'd have shared this with them already, so I see no need to keep it from them. You will, of course, impress on them the need for discretion on this matter? It must not become common knowledge, else Voldemort will learn of it."  
  
"I think we can trust the three of them to hold this close, Professor. Thanks. I guess I'll see you tomorrow night."  
  
Taking his leave of Professor Dumbledore, Harry gathered his best friends and Ginny and asked them to join him upstairs. Seeing the serious look on his face, they quickly agreed and followed him upstairs.  
  
"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked as Harry pulled the door closed behind them.  
  
Squaring his shoulders he looked at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ginny still had a small smile on her face after reading her letter from Sirius and Harry was definitely intrigued as to what his godfather had left her in his will. Shaking his head, he sat down in the nearest chair and motioned for his three friends to do the same.  
  
"Well, I have to tell you about the reason Voldemort wanted the prophecy so badly. I need to tell you what it said and what it means. You have to understand that you can't repeat this to anyone, ever, unless Professor Dumbledore or I tell you it is okay. And I'll also understand if you don't want to talk to me after you hear it, it's pretty awful."  
  
Ron, who had blanched when Harry said Voldemort's name looked at his friend indignantly. "That's a load of rubbish Harry. No stupid prophecy would make us want to stop talking to you. It can't be that bad."  
  
Nodding their heads in agreement Hermione and Ginny stated their agreement with Ron's assessment. Sighing, Harry leaned back and cleared his head. He then stared at the floor in the middle of the room and repeated the prophecy that Professor Dumbledore had shared with him the night of his godfather's death.  
  
All three of his friends stared wordlessly at Harry, astounded at what they had heard, pondering its impact, and worried for Harry. As Harry watched each of them he saw that Ron had gone completely pale with worry or fear and was slowly shaking his head back and forth. Hermione had an intense look on her face and as Harry looked at her he saw that she was silently mouthing the words of the prophecy to herself, storing them in her memory and analyzing every word. Ginny was staring straight at Harry, no obvious emotion running across her face, but for some strange reason Harry couldn't quite return her gaze. He avoided her eyes by looking at her hair, her chin, and then her hands. Blushing he looked away from her and sighed.  
  
"Well, you see, what it really ends up meaning is that I have to kill or be killed. Since I don't want to die, well, obviously that means I have to become a murderer. So I can see why you might want to avoid me from now on."  
  
Harry's eyes again dropped to the carpet and he refused to look at his friends, fearing that he might see them agree with his assessment.  
  
"Harry, that's about the stupidest thing you've ever said, including all the homework you made up for Divination." Ginny stated this quite calmly as she reached over and grabbed his hand. "Killing You-Know-Voldemort is a good thing, not a bad thing. It doesn't make you a murderer, it doesn't make you evil."  
  
"Yeah, Harry," Ron chimed in. "Isn't that what heroes do? Kill the bad guy? I mean, Dumbledore killed Grindelwald and he got an Order of Merlin, not a life sentence in Azkaban. Some people just need killing and He's a first class candidate."  
  
Harry's anger flared up, and his head snapped up at his friends.  
  
"It's easy for you to say, but I'm the one who has to kill him. I'm the one who has to actually murder him. How could I do that? How could I kill someone? I could never kill someone."  
  
"But Harry, you already have." Hermione looked shocked that she had said this, and was afraid of Harry's reaction. Seeing the stunned look on his face, she quickly continued.  
  
"I mean, well, you killed Professor Quirrell in our first year. I, well, I know that you didn't set out to do it, and it was kind of an accident, but he did, well, um, die."  
  
Her statement shocked Harry. He couldn't believe what she was saying to him. Memories of his first year came rushing back to his head as he recalled that frantic night as he, Ron, and Hermione has rushed to save the Philosopher's stone. Their defeat of Fluffy, the flying keys, the potions, the chess pieces, and finally his horrible confrontation with Voldemort and Professor Quirrell.  
  
Harry hadn't really ever thought about the implications of that confrontation in some time. He had killed Quirrell, hadn't he? And, despite Hermione's suggestion, Harry knew, deep down, that he had intended to kill Quirrell. When Harry figured out that his touch caused such pain for Quirrell, Harry grabbed on to Quirrell, intent on destroying him. A faint beacon of hope entered Harry's awareness as he started to realize that all hope was not lost.  
  
The sound of Ginny's voice snapped him back to awareness.  
  
"Harry, in a way, you've kind of already killed Him twice. What's the muggle saying "third times the charm?"  
  
"What do you mean Ginny?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
"Well, the first time was when you were a baby. He tried to kill you but it backfired, and you kind of killed him. His body at least. And then my first year, down in the Chamber. When you confronted Tom. You knew who he was. You knew that his connection to the diary, to me, was killing me. So you used the basilisk fang to destroy the diary, to kill Tom's soul. This time all you have to do is kill his body and soul at the same time and it will finally be over."  
  
"Yeah, that's all." Ron interrupted dryly, shaking his head. "If only Harry did it right the first two times we wouldn't be in this bloody mess."  
  
Harry glared at his best friend as he slowly realized that Ginny was right. He did intentionally try to kill the memory of Tom Riddle. He knew the basilisk fang would destroy the diary, destroy Tom, and restore Ginny. Once he knew that he deliberately set out to kill Tom Riddle, knowing he was Voldemort. He had wanted to kill Voldemort.  
  
The sense of hope that had sparked with Hermione's words erupted brightly in the aftermath of Ginny's statement. A warm feeling swarmed through Harry's body as he recognized that he would be able to defeat Voldemort, and that he needn't feel shame or guilt about the actions foretold by the prophecy. Harry suddenly felt more confident, more sure, more powerful than he had ever felt, and knew that with his friends at his side he would be able to do what he must.  
  
He would kill Voldemort.  
  
---  
  
Harry awoke the next morning in his bedroom at number 4, Privet Drive. He was still exhausted from the previous day's events and groaned into his pillow as he heard his Aunt and Uncle arguing in the kitchen.  
  
Recognizing the futility of trying to ignore the commotion from downstairs, Harry threw his feet over his bed and slowly started getting dressed for another day working at the park. Making his way down the stair case he paused to listen to the ranting of his Uncle.  
  
"Petunia I don't understand why we have to suffer through his intolerable behavior any more! Why you insist on providing that ungrateful brat with shelter and food is beyond me. He's a lunatic, those friends of his are lunatics, and I am sick and tired of sheltering that nonsense in my house. He absolutely must go away from here, he must."  
  
"Vernon, be reasonable. You know my thoughts on this matter, and you know I would like to be rid of him as well. But his safety, his very life, depends on his ability to stay here. I cannot disregard that obligation, no matter how tempting it is. It's only for a few more weeks, and then he'll be back to that wretched school again."  
  
Harry was uncertain if he appreciated his Aunt's rationale for opening her home to him, but he did realize that she was concerned for his safety at least. There was some small comfort in that fact. With a sigh he made his way into the kitchen, prepared for the argument that seemed inevitable.  
  
As he walked through the kitchen, he was surprised that the argument ceased as soon as he walked in. His Uncle returned his attention to the newspaper in front of him and his Aunt made herself busy with the breakfast. Wordlessly Harry walked over to the stove and took over for his Aunt.  
  
Harry was stunned when Aunt Petunia gave him a grateful look, and she quietly sat down at the kitchen table, stirring her tea. Harry made quick work of the breakfast and quietly served eggs and bacon to his Aunt and Uncle, once again noticing that his cousin was still asleep.  
  
Uncle Vernon quickly swallowed his meal and angrily pushed away from the table. Glaring at his nephew, he stomped out the house and left for work. With a sigh Aunt Petunia pushed her eggs around the plate for several minutes as Harry finished his breakfast.  
  
"I'm sorry Aunt Petunia," Harry said quietly. "I do appreciate what you've done for me."  
  
Quickly looking up at her nephew, Aunt Petunia silently stared at Harry, unsure of what to say.  
  
"Is there- - Can I do anything to make this better?" Harry was confused by the emotions running through him, he was surprised that he was actually concerned about his Aunt.  
  
"No," she sighed bitterly. "I just have to live with the consequences of this. Just make sure your friends don't show up in the middle of the night anymore, and you had better not stay out late again like last night."  
  
Aunt Petunia pushed her plate away and angrily stomped out of the kitchen as well. Harry sighed, angry at his Uncle for causing such a problem this morning, and annoyed that his Aunt wasn't more sympathetic. Knowing he couldn't change them, he piled all the plates in the sink and began to wash the dishes.  
  
As he filled the sink with hot water his thoughts wandered aimlessly. He thought of the night's events at Sirius' house - now Harry's house - and while he still deeply missed his godfather, Harry knew that the evening had provided him with some necessary closure. He was now able to think about Sirius without the agonizing guilt that had overwhelmed him for weeks. Harry also realized that he was able to think about the stupid prophecy without anguish either. He chuckled to himself as he realized how right Hermione was. And Ginny.  
  
Surprisingly his stomach lurched when he thought of Ginny. As he dazedly scrubbed the plate over and over again he pondered the sensation that thoughts of Ginny had brought to him. He wasn't really sure what it meant, but he knew it meant something. Shaking his head, he finished the last plate and dried his hands.  
  
"Maybe it's just a delayed reaction to being slapped," he muttered to himself. "That's got to be it." Immensely satisfied with this explanation, he headed to the park to start another day at his summer job.  
  
---  
  
Mr. Smith greeted Harry with a hearty slap to the back and suggested that Harry looked like he could use some rest. When Harry didn't protest that statement, Mr. Smith marched him down to the pond and sat him down in a lush shaded spot near a big weeping willow.  
  
"Today I want you to watch how many different types of birds come by our little pond. That's it. I'll stop by again at lunch."  
  
Harry gratefully said his thanks to Mr. Smith and settled in for the morning. He was amazed at the serenity the park offered and watched with pleasure as dozens of birds flew lazily overhead. The variety of birds in this little park was quite fascinating, though Harry was quite unconcerned about their proper names or types. Only when he saw a dark brown owl float silently through the air did Harry pay any particular attention to the birds. He watched as the owl slowly circled over the pond and headed directly for him. As the owl slowly landed by Harry's side, Harry saw the letter tied to the owl's leg. Untying the letter, he gave the owl a friendly pat on the head and it immediately flew off, ignoring the squawks of the other birds, unused to seeing an owl in daylight.  
  
Harry Potter  
Under the Weeping Willow  
Little Whinging Park  
Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
Dear Mr. Potter:  
  
We have been informed by your counsel, Mrs. Chetum, that you have been  
officially certified as the heir to the Black Family trust. In case  
you are not aware, the Black Family trust is one of the largest  
shareholders of our company, and as such you would normally be granted  
an automatic seat on our Board of Directors.  
  
Unfortunately, due to the fact that you are a minor, and due to the  
objections of the Minister of Magic, we have no choice but to call for  
a shareholders meeting to seek a vote on whether to offer you a seat  
on the Board, or wait until you reach your majority.  
  
You should note that the majority of the board has recently been  
replaced, as has the editorial staff. The shareholders have been  
particularly displeased with the performance over the past year,  
including the previous Chief's position on the events over the past  
year.  
  
Please be advised that, as the newly installed Wizard in Chief, I can  
not take a position on this matter publicly as I must always seek to  
benefit the company as a whole. However, were we to speak personally,  
you would find that my opinion does not necessarily coincide with the  
Minister.  
  
After receiving a letter from a mutual friend, his bird sings quite  
the pretty song, I have arranged to have the shareholder meeting take  
place ten days from now on Saturday, August 5. You will receive  
another letter with a portkey that will take you to the location of  
the meeting. Obviously security is an important consideration in  
these trying times, yours especially.  
  
Please owl if you have any questions for me prior to the meeting.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Walter Scrivener  
Wizard in Chief  
The Daily Prophet  
  
Harry couldn't quite believe what he was reading. Sirius had never mentioned anything about the extent of his family's holdings, and he certainly never mentioned any relationship with the Daily Prophet. It was amazing, and Harry wasn't sure what to think.  
  
For the past year he had been made a laughing stock in the wizarding world, largely due to the abuse and mistreatment of the Daily Prophet. Their editors, and writers, were scoundrels and lackeys of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and had twisted everything Harry had experienced to destroy his reputation. And now, due to his godfather's death, Harry would have a say in the operation of that newspaper. He couldn't quite believe it, and stared at the letter, pondering the implications of this recent development.  
  
As he sat under the tree, a few random thoughts began formulating into a plan of action and a curiously mischievous smile played across his face. If he played his cards right, he'd be able to make a few necessary, and important changes, to both the Daily Prophet, and the wizarding world. Satisfied that this was the right thing to do, Harry continued to plot out his thinking, and started mentally preparing his speech to the shareholders before the vote.  
  
Harry realized that he'd need to talk with a few people first, so he mentally prepared a list of those with whom he would need to discuss his plan. But he decided that no one, not even Ron or Hermione, would know all of the details until he had implemented it. As much as he trusted them, he wasn't sure if Ron would be able to contain the secrets Harry was formulating, and he wasn't sure if Hermione would be able to keep it from Ron.  
  
Laughing to himself, he looked across the pond once more and settled back down for a short nap before lunch.  
  
---  
  
When Mr. Smith came to eat lunch with Harry, he found Harry fast asleep and for the first time since they had met, Harry seemed at peace and to have relaxed. Mr. Smith was reluctant to wake the young boy, but knew that Harry needed to eat, to try to restore some strength to his body. It was obvious to Mr. Smith that Harry had not had an easy summer, or indeed and easy life, and he was committed to providing Harry with the opportunity to savor what was left of the summer.  
  
As he gently shook Harry's arm, trying to wake him up, he was startled when Harry's eyes snapped open and he saw a flash of panic race across Harry's face. Harry was reaching quickly for his pocket, as if prepared to produce some form of weapon when Mr. Smith hastily tried to calm him down.  
  
"Easy there lad, it's just me. It's lunch time, I thought you might want to eat a bit. No need to get alarmed." Mr. Smith was very curious as to the poor boy's reaction to being awoken, trying to figure out how a young boy of only fifteen could react with such panic. He decided that poor Harry must have indeed seen some dark things in his youth.  
  
Harry quickly relaxed, sheepishly smiled up at Mr. Smith, and stood up to walk back to where they kept their lunches. As they sat down at the table and quietly ate their lunch, Harry listened to the gentle breeze as it whirled around the park. In the distance he saw an elderly couple slowly throwing out nuts to a gathering of squirrels, and he smiled at the peaceful setting.  
  
"Well, I guess you really needed that nap, Harry. You look loads better than when you showed up this morning. You must have had a hard night." Mr. Smith casually looked over at Harry to watch the boy's reaction, and was troubled when he saw a flash of pain float across his face.  
  
"Yeah, well, I had to go to a will reading last night, and it was difficult."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry kiddo. Was it someone close to you?" Seeing Harry's nod, he sighed. "Yeah, those are always tough. I've lost a lot of people in my life, war, disease, old age. It's never easy, and always painful. Especially when they're close. And in these dark times, well, we can just hope that we won't lose too many more before their time. But enough of that, let's think about the positives. If you were at a will reading, maybe that means you were left something to remember that person by? Some money maybe or something they wanted you to do?"  
  
Harry nodded again, reluctant to start talking.  
  
"Well, let's see. No offense to you, or your Aunt, but you obviously don't have a bloody clue about clothing. What you've got on is just dreadful, too big for you, and I can't imagine it's something you picked out for yourself. Why don't we go into town and do a little shopping?"  
  
Harry surprised himself by eagerly nodding his agreement, but then realized he didn't actually have any money on him. It was all still in his vaults at Gringott's. As he opened his mouth to say this, Mr. Smith laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry about the money, I'm sure you don't have any of your inheritance on you, those things always take time. Lawyers, bankers, the whole lot of them, make me sick. I'll pay for what you buy today, and take it out of your wages. Any difference you can make up to me when you get all the paperwork resolved."  
  
Harry was stunned by the man's generosity, and thanked him profusely. As they drove out of the park, Harry realized that he had never actually been to the stores in Little Whinging, and had no idea what to expect.  
  
As they found a place to park, Mr. Smith guided Harry to some of the more fashionable stores on the block, explaining to Harry that his grandson normally liked to shop in these stores and since he was about Harry's age, that he'd probably be able to find something suitable.  
  
Walking in to a store, Harry was amazed at the variety of clothing. Reluctant to try anything that looked too unusual or bizarre to his mundane tastes, he found himself looking in the back of the store at relatively conservative clothing. Finding several things to his liking, he brought the pile of clothing to the clerk and asked how much everything would cost.  
  
Looking over the pile, the clerk tabulated everything and told Harry and Mr. Smith that the total was 200 pounds. Amazed, Harry started to pick through the pile to remove some items, but Mr. Smith stopped him.  
  
"Harry, don't worry about it. Having you work for me over the past three weeks, I'm aware that you need a whole new wardrobe. This is only the beginning of what you'll need." As Mr. Smith saw Harry struggle with the unexpected generosity, Mr. Smith continued. "Look, so far you've spent everything I'd have paid you and we're about even. You've got a few more weeks of work, and I know you're a hard worker, you'll earn it. And like I said, you can pay me back when your inheritance comes in. Now, let's move on, there are several more stores we need to hit and I insist."  
  
Harry gave him a small smile and thanked Mr. Smith profusely. Taking the bags from the clerk as Mr. Smith signed the receipt, Harry began to think of other necessities that he needed. Realizing his good fortune to have Mr. Smith looking out for him, Harry prepared himself for an afternoon of shopping.  
  
---  
  
Mr. Smith dropped him off at number 4, Privet Drive in the early evening. It took Harry three trips to bring in all of his bags of clothing and personal items, and his tiny bedroom was filled with all of his packages. Smiling to himself, Harry opened his trunk and began creating a pile of all of Dudley's old hand-me-downs so that he could throw them out.  
  
Having successfully purged his belongings of all his old clothing, Harry began unpacking his new clothing and found that he was very satisfied with his new wardrobe. Pulling on a new, sharp outfit, he shoved the pile of old clothes into a few bags to bring downstairs. Remembering his appointment with Professor Dumbledore, he walked down the stairs and brought the bags out to the waste bins in the back yard.  
  
As he turned to walk back into the house, he was startled by the quiet crack of a wizard Apparating. Professor Dumbledore appeared in front of him, dressed impeccably in a three piece suit of muggle fashion. Harry was astounded by his headmaster's appearance, he had never seen Professor Dumbledore dressed as a muggle, and Harry couldn't get over how odd the older wizard looked.  
  
"Greetings Harry, I hope you are prepared for our dinner appointment? I see that you have found yourself some, ah, more appropriate clothing. Very good, very good. I must compliment you on your choices. If you are ready, I suggest we head out straightaway as I have a reservation for us at a fine little restaurant not too far from here." Professor Dumbledore was smiling broadly at Harry and his eyes were twinkling vividly. He was genuinely happy to see Harry, and Harry found that his anger and animosity towards the headmaster had diminished quite a bit over the past twenty-four hours.  
  
"Sure, Professor, I'm ready. But will we be able to talk, erm, privately? I don't want to have any muggles listen in on our conversation, anyone really." Harry was mentally preparing himself for a lengthy conversation with Professor Dumbledore and didn't want to resort to having to talk around the subjects he intended to bring up.  
  
"Oh, of course Harry. It is a cozy little restaurant in the center of town, we'll have a private room and I will take appropriate precautions to ensure the privacy of our conversation. I have eaten there on several occasions with Ms. Figg to thank her for her work in protecting you, so I am quite familiar with the location."  
  
Satisfied, Harry walked into the house, left a short note for his Aunt, and joined Professor Dumbledore for the walk into town.  
  
As they walked Harry watched his headmaster who was gleefully taking in his surroundings of the muggle town. Harry wondered how Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley ever managed to get any work done when together, they must love talking with each other about the things muggles create to make their lives easier. With a grin Harry pointed out various objects of interest and was surprised by his headmaster's obvious interest in the daily lives of the muggles.  
  
"It's just fascinating Harry. The things they come up with. It is truly marvelous." His eyes were twinkling quite merrily as they walked to a small establishment that looked quite well kept and had a small sign proclaiming it to be "The Stormy Cauldron."  
  
Professor Dumbledore opened the front door and ushered Harry in. Harry was amused to see that the entire restaurant was decorated in a nautical theme with anchors and paintings of seascapes hung throughout, portholes instead of windows, and the staff were dressed as if they were preparing to set sail. He was startled when passing by the bar to see a bubbling cauldron being stirred by the bartender, the cauldron would not have looked out of place at Hogwarts.  
  
"Um, Professor, is there anything unusual about this restaurant?" he asked, pointing to the cauldron.  
  
Chuckling, Dumbledore smiled and patted Harry's shoulder. "Not at all, just a curious affectation of the owner. Don't worry, this establishment is entirely muggle. That's one of the reasons why I enjoy it so thoroughly."  
  
The owner of the restaurant greeted Professor Dumbledore like an old friend and quickly showed them to their private room. Murmuring his thanks, Professor Dumbledore asked for a few minutes before the staff returned. After the owner left Dumbledore pulled out his wand and cast several spells on the room. Satisfied he sat down across from Harry and reached for his menu.  
  
"I have taken care of security, nothing can be overheard now, and the staff will find themselves curiously eager to serve us promptly and then remove themselves from here."  
  
As if summoned by his words, the waiter appeared to welcome them, described the specials, and took their drink order. As he left Dumbledore suggested that Harry try the second special as it was one of his favorites, and sat back to review the menu. The waiter promptly returned with their drinks and the two wizards ordered their meals.  
  
"Well, Harry, while we wait for our meals to arrive, I believe we have much to discuss. I am greatly pleased to see that your spirits have improved and that your friends have helped you through this tough time. I do want you to know that I too grieve for Sirius and lament his passing. He was a remarkable man and a wonderful friend to many. I will never forget him, and I hope that you can remember him with some peace as time moves on." As Professor Dumbledore's eyes misted a bit, he coughed slightly, and continued.  
  
"So, let me lay out my agenda of what I need to discuss with you this evening. First, we must discuss your need for continued Occlumency training. Second, we have several trials coming up where your testimony will be vital. Malfoy and Pettigrew are first, as they are the most dangerous and most deserving of punishment, and, perhaps more importantly, the trial to restore your godfather's name. Third, I would like to discuss your continued involvement in the DA, as you call it. Finally, we need to discuss the Order of the Phoenix. That is my agenda for the evening. However, I believe that you also indicated that you had an agenda of your own?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," Harry confirmed. He was pleased that Dumbledore was talking with him, as opposed to at him. Harry knew that he was still a teenager, but he'd suffered through enough pain and misery to be afforded the courtesy of being included in discussions and decisions that impacted his life.  
  
"I also want to discuss the DA, so perhaps we can start there. I also want to talk with you about the Daily Prophet, though I suspect you know a great deal about that," he said. When Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, Harry grinned. "Then we need to discuss the Ministry. I have a few thoughts, a few plans, on how to improve our situation, and I'd like your advice."  
  
Professor Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully to his favorite student.  
  
"Absolutely. Well, let's begin. As I said in my letter, I would like you, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley to continue your efforts with the DA. As I indicated, events are moving quite rapidly and I fear we will need a large coterie of fully trained and prepared individuals to join us in the fight against Voldemort. While I have managed to find a suitable candidate for our Defense teacher this year - -"  
  
"Who?" Harry interrupted.  
  
"All in good time," Dumbledore chuckled. "I would like to save some things as a surprise, if you don't mind. Suffice it to say, you will not be plagued by another incompetent instructor this coming year. But, as I was saying, though we have a good teacher this year, I do not want to focus all of his efforts just on the battles ahead. And several of your classmates may not want to participate in the struggle. I will not force their hand, they have the right to remain innocent as long as possible, that is after all, why we will fight.  
  
"Thus, I believe that your DA offers the best of all opportunities. You demonstrated remarkable leadership last year Harry, bringing your friends together, training them throughout the year, and overcoming the many obstacles that hag put in place. Plus, when you refused to seek help from myself or Professor McGonnagal, you demonstrated a tenacity that has not been matched by a student in years. Plus then we should recall your valiant efforts at the Ministry. You and your small group of friends managed to hold off many older, experienced, and ruthless Deatheaters, a feat even fully trained wizards would have had some difficulty in matching.  
  
"Accordingly, I would like you to continue your efforts. Recruit others to your cause, train them for the dangers that lie ahead, give them the opportunity to learn about the choices they must make, and help them make the right choice. I would like you to expand the group in whatever way you see fit. Develop a training regimen that you can implement. As I stated in my letter, any and all of the resources of the school and staff will be available to you and your efforts. I want nothing to stand in the way of your success. I do not seek to control it, but I would be more than happy to advise you in whatever manner you deem necessary."  
  
Harry was overwhelmed by the sincerity in his headmaster's voice. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, recipient of the Order of Merlin, the most powerful wizard on the planet, was asking Harry to develop and prepare an entire army to follow Harry, and he trusted Harry to set up the whole thing. It was a very reassuring vote of confidence, and Harry was humbled that Dumbledore was truly asking, almost pleading, for Harry to do this.  
  
"Professor, I don't have any real choice in this. I have to accept your offer. What you've suggested is largely along the lines of what I was going to ask of you, but I do want to reassure you that I'm not looking for my own army or for more power. I just want my friends to be ready, and I want to make sure they survive. I will need help and guidance, and suggestions on what to do with the DA."  
  
Dumbledore's heart was about to burst. He was incredibly proud of this sturdy young wizard.  
  
"Harry, of course I realize you are doing this for selfless reasons, and for love. As I have said, it is your greatest gift, your greatest strength, this capacity you have to love. We face dark times and you offer a fantastic beacon of hope. To your friends, your fellow students, and the entire world. I appreciate your acceptance of this challenge, and you will get all the support you need.  
  
"Next, let us discuss the various trials we have readied. While we were able to capture several Deatheaters at the Ministry, none are as significant as Lucius Malfoy. As you are aware he was able to escape punishment after your previous defeat of Voldemort by claiming he was under the Imperius Curse. Undoubtedly he will try to make the same argument during this trial as well. While I have several tricks up my sleeve to refute that argument, the wizarding world is still uneasy about the revelation that Voldemort has returned. Your testimony would be crucial to securing his conviction and I hope you will find the strength to testify."  
  
"Professor, you don't even need to ask. I will do anything to make sure that he gets locked away for the rest of his life. I only wish we had managed to cause him as much harm as he's caused before you subdued him." Harry was fervent with his desire to incarcerate Malfoy, and relished the opportunity to flaunt that when he next met up with Draco.  
  
"Good, good. I had assumed as much, but wanted to present you with the opportunity to refuse in a private setting. Also, we will have a trial for Mr. Pettigrew- -"  
  
"I will GLADLY testify to send that rat to jail," seethed Harry. "Couldn't we just give him another opportunity to curse me while I'm staying with my Aunt? That would be a better justice."  
  
Harry was surprised to see his headmaster nodding his head.  
  
"I agree Harry, but unfortunately we need his conviction to clear Sirius. Once Peter is convicted, I think the trial of Sirius will be a quick affair. I can guarantee that since I'll be running the show." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was fierce and Harry sensed the conviction behind the powerful man.  
  
"Next, your training for Occlumency must continue. I deeply regret the training you received last year did not suffice, and we suffered a great loss due to my errors. I must make amends. Accordingly, I have secured a commitment from an accomplished expert in the field of Occlumency and Legilimency, and your training will resume when you return to school, if you agree.  
  
"I regret that I did not do a better job of informing you of the reasons and necessity for your training in this area, but I assure you I will no longer attempt to keep vital information from you. But if I am to include you in this information, I must know that Voldemort will not be able to manipulate your mind again."  
  
"I understand," Harry said with a twinge of guilt. "I know how important it is, and I will train, so long as it is not with Snape. I can't trust him and won't let him near my mind again."  
  
With a sad sigh, Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"No, Harry, I understand. Professor Snape will not be your instructor. You will meet up with your instructor when you return to school, and I assure you he will do a superior job.  
  
"And so we come to the final topic. The Order of the Phoenix. You will understand that I do not bring this up lightly, but I believe it is time for you to join the Order, if you are interested. You will understand, I hope, my rationale for not bringing you into the Order previously, but I find that I feel at a loss for reasons to keep you out at this point, despite your age. I want to share the burden of the Order with you Harry, a burden you will carry throughout your life. But it is also a blessing.  
  
"By joining the Order you align yourself against the forces of the Dark. You set yourself up as a champion of your age. You will be blessed by the support and love of those in the Order, and you be burdened by the lasting enmity of Dark wizards and witches. You will have access to knowledge and resources beyond your imagining, and you will be at the forefront of battles against evil for your entire life."  
  
As Harry started to speak, Dumbledore motioned for him to stay silent.  
  
"I do not ask for an answer tonight, for there is much you must contemplate. You are not an ordinary individual, Harry, you are a remarkable wizard. Asking you to join the Order is not the same as asking Arthur or Remus to join. For them the consequences, though potentially dire, were not as life-altering. They are able to remove themselves from the Order, to live more normal lives, to avoid the battle against evil, if they choose.  
  
"If you accept, if you join, you will become my heir, my successor. You will be the next Head of the Order, and the focal point of calamity throughout your life. I do not ask this lightly, and I want you to think about this before you make a decision.  
  
"Also, I must inform you that I am unable to ask young Mr. Weasley to join the Order at this time. Molly has made it clear that she will not allow it. She worries about her children, understandably, and thus I am prevented from approaching him since he is not of age. I have not made a decision about Ms. Granger, for I would naturally need to approach her parents before doing so. I will await your decision before I decide whether to approach her."  
  
The wait staff silently entered the room at that point, bringing in the array of dishes that Dumbledore and Harry had ordered. After checking that everything was sufficient, the staff left.  
  
"Professor, I promise I will think about this. Obviously I want to do what I can to help, and I'm convinced that joining the Order will help. But I will think about it."  
  
"Excellent, Harry. I am very pleased. Now, while we eat, why don't you cover your agenda. I have a few other things I want to share with you before we finish, but they are not as important as what I've already covered this evening."  
  
"Okay, well, first, as I gather you are aware, Sirius left me a large share in the Daily Prophet. Normally I'd be given a seat on the board, but apparently Fudge has interfered again. I have to attend a meeting to make my case for being on the board. I would like you to attend as a visible reminder of what we are facing, but I have prepared some thoughts about what I'd like to say and I would value your opinion.  
  
"I fully intend to take my rightful spot on the board so that I can influence that paper, make sure that the news is less biased and more helpful for our efforts. We need to change public opinion and change it fast. I can do that if the Daily Prophet can speak more freely than it has, and report the truth, not the drudge the Ministry has made them address.  
  
"Also, this neatly coincides with my concerns about the Ministry. I'm tired of Fudge's interference. I'm sick of the stupid actions by the Ministry. We need some changes there or we're doomed. I know you have refrained from attempting to interfere with the Ministry too much, and have relied on your influence over former students and friends, but I think we need to take more concrete steps to ensure continued Ministry support. I also think we need to change the way that things work, and I have a few plans."  
  
Dumbledore slowly nodded his head and encouraged Harry to continue. Harry laid out his planned speech to the shareholders, causing Dumbledore's eyebrows to shoot up on several occasions, but eventually the headmaster started chuckling. As Harry finished his explanation of what he intended, Professor Dumbledore nodded his head in agreement and sighed.  
  
"Harry, I am impressed. I have avoided trying to take such a public position, fearing that it would lead to a backlash by Voldemort's forces, but I see now that we have little choice. We must band together as many as we can in order to win. Your plan has many advantages. If you do not mind I will think about this and let you know if I have any suggestions for changes or modifications."  
  
Harry nodded his agreement. Then he continued to explain how his strategy for the Daily Prophet fit into his plans for dealing with the Ministry. As his plan unfolded, Dumbledore shifted from interest to awe.  
  
"Harry, I do not know what to say. You have obviously given this much thought, but have you realized the impact this is bound to have on those you plan to involve? You must think through carefully before you begin. I agree that change is necessary, but I do not know if what you are proposing is the best course."  
  
"I have thought about it Professor. If we are to win, if we are to defeat Voldemort, if I am to stay alive, we have to do this. You know that, you know I'm right. Think about it. Suggest an alternative. But if you have no other option, please support me. Otherwise we're doomed."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head and sighed. "It appears we both have much to think about Harry. I am pleased that we are working together on this. Our success depends on your survival, never doubt that. It is not worth the victory if we lose you. If that means we must follow your plans, well, I will do my most to help them succeed."  
  
The two wizards quickly finished the rest of their meal, both contemplating the plans they had discussed. Shortly the staff returned with the dessert cart and Dumbledore's eyes were alight with glee.  
  
"Oh, let's just leave the entire cart, if you don't mind." With a bright smile, Dumbledore reached for the first confection. "These are simply marvelous, and I have to try each one."  
  
Smiling Harry took a serving of an apple crisp while he watched as his diner companion carefully sampled each of the various desserts that had been left by the staff.  
  
"Professor, you mentioned some other things you wanted to discuss. What were they?" Harry inquired.  
  
"Oh, yes," Dumbledore replied as he took a bite of a strawberry filled cream puff. "Just a few mundane matters. First, I realized that I needed to break with tradition a little and have decided to appoint three prefects from the sixth year class in Gryffindor. A little oversight on my part as I obviously should have done that last year."  
  
Harry's grin matched the one on Dumbledore's. Both were pleased with this turn of events.  
  
"Secondly, I have realized that several of my prospective prefects would need greater latitude than we have given them in the past. I have decided that they will need permanent access to Hogsmeade so that they can relax whenever they feel necessary. It will be a difficult year for them, and I feel they deserve some small reward for their tireless effort."  
  
Harry's grin grew even larger, if possible, as he thought about the possibilities of being able to go to Hogsmeade whenever he wanted.  
  
Dumbledore smiled at the obvious pleasure this gave to Harry, greatly pleased to see his young student happy and content. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful meal, and Dumbledore felt a surge of triumph as he thought about Harry's plans.  
  
Harry had hope, Dumbledore realized. Harry wanted to survive, to win.  
  
And their path to war was set. 


	4. The Happiest Birthday

Chapter Four - The Happiest Birthday  
  
When Harry returned to his Aunt's house, he was surprised to see that the door was unlocked. Uncle Vernon had a habit of locking him out at every opportunity, but tonight he didn't have to spend an hour waiting for his Uncle to decide to let him in.  
  
Harry immediately went up to his room where he found Hedwig sitting on his bed. Wondering why she was not in her cage, Harry turned to look and was startled by the tiny owl fluttering around in the cage. Hedwig had obviously moved out of the cage as soon as the tiny bird entered. Harry tried to calm the overexcited bird down, to little avail, but he did manage to untie the letter attached to its leg. Quickly opening the letter he saw it was from Ron.  
  
Dear Harry:  
  
I still can't believe everything that happened yesterday. Sirius was  
a generous guy, and I'm amazed at what he did for our family. We  
didn't get much chance to talk about it, but not only did he give all  
those galleons (and my own Firebolt!) but he was spectacular to Mum  
and Dad as well.  
  
He gave them enough money to pay for the Burrow, pay for Hogwarts for  
Ginny and me for the rest of our schooling, and gave them a huge  
amount of gold. They won't tell me how much, so it's got to be a lot.  
Mum keeps telling Dad that he can quit the Ministry if Fudge  
continues to be an idiot.  
  
Harry smiled at that, please that Sirius had helped this wonderful family. And Harry was glad because it made part of his plan easier.  
  
Ginny won't tell me what Sirius gave her, or what he said in his  
letter. She just smiles at me and tells me to mind my own business.  
Girls!  
  
Fred and George got some gold as well, but more importantly to them,  
Sirius gave him a journal that detailed all of the pranks and tricks  
the Marauders played while at school, and some pranks they played  
right after school. They are getting a copy made so that you can get  
the original back, they figure you'd want something of his like that  
and they just need the ideas anyway.  
  
I tell you, it's amazing.  
  
Mum and Dad want me to tell you how touched they are that Sirius was  
so generous to them. They know he did it because of you, and Mum,  
well, she's just been blithering all day long about you. She was very  
happy that you snapped out of your funk, she's been so worried that  
she didn't know what to do.  
  
Accordingly, we're inviting you over to the Burrow for your birthday.  
We know that you can't leave the muggles permanently yet, but we  
figure you can escape for a dinner party in your honor. Check with  
Dumbledore, but we plan on picking you up on Monday at 6 pm. One way  
or the other.  
  
Hermione will be there, of course, and all of us Weasley's. Lupin,  
Tonks, and a few others as well. Mum wanted to try to make it bigger,  
but Dad convinced her to keep it quiet.  
  
See you Monday!  
  
Ron  
  
Harry was genuinely excited about his birthday for the first time he could remember. He'd never had an actual birthday celebration and was very touched that the Weasley's wanted to do this for him. He didn't think that Dumbledore would have any objection, especially after their dinner conversation, but Harry knew he would have to owl him just to make sure. He sat down to respond to Ron's letter, telling him he'd be ready at 6 on the 31st and then wrote a quick note to Dumbledore asking if it was okay.  
  
Tying the letter to Ron on Pig's leg took several minutes because the tiny little bird kept flitting around the room. Finally successful, he threw the tiny owl out the window and watched with amusement as it almost dropped straight to the ground before flapping its wings. He then turned to Hedwig and tied his note to Dumbledore on her leg.  
  
"Bring this to school, girl, and then come back as soon as you can. I don't want you gone too long." He gently stroked her head, gave her an owl treat, and held her aloft so she could silently float out the window.  
  
With a content sigh he slipped into bed and fell into a peaceful sleep.  
  
---  
  
The next few days went by in a slow blur as Harry spent every waking moment either working at the park with Mr. Smith or holed up in his room plotting out his plans for his meeting with the shareholders. Having received an owl from Dumbledore allowing him to go to the Weasley's for dinner, Harry was eagerly anticipating his birthday for the first time.  
  
As his birthday arrived he was not surprised that his Aunt and Uncle didn't recognize the day, but he was surprised by that realization that he still hadn't seen his cousin Dudley once this summer. When Harry was up in the morning, Dudley was still sleeping. When Harry returned after work Dudley was either out with friends or taking a nap. Harry couldn't quite believe his good fortune, but certainly wasn't going to second guess it.  
  
As he entered the house, he was relieved to find it quiet. His Aunt was still out and his Uncle hadn't come home from work. Dudley too was no where to be found. Rushing through a quick shower, Harry changed into one of his more fashionable new outfits and returned to the living room, waiting for the Weasley's to come get him.  
  
As the clock struck 6 Harry heard a low roar outside accompanied by a sudden loud bang. And then the sound of hundreds of cars honking blasted through the neighborhood. Rushing outside to see what the commotion was, he grinned when he saw the flamboyantly colored car zooming down the street towards his house.  
  
It was a beautiful car, sleek, elegant, and very shiny. The only problem was that it was painted many different colors. The trunk, the hood, the doors, the bumpers, everything was painted differently in loud, antagonizing colors. Polka dots, stripes, bizarre designs were scattered here and there around the car. As it came to a screeching halt, the driver honked again and Harry was certain that he had gone permanently deaf. The sound was thunderous. Birds flew rapidly away, dogs were howling, and cats were wailing in agony at the sound.  
  
As he expected, the doors flew open and Fred and George came bounding out, dressed in their dragon hide suits that made Harry think they had to be more than a little insane. The twins rushed up to him, grabbed him on either side and frogmarched him to the car.  
  
"Happy Birthday Harry!" they exclaimed in unison. "We're your ride! Don't you just love the car? We bought it for the company, need to make an impression you know."  
  
Harry wasn't sure what impression they intended, but he knew it certainly made an impression. As he found himself forced into the front seat he saw that the exotic color scheme on the outside paled in comparison to the colors on the inside. There was a veritable rainbow of shimmering colors throughout the interior. As Fred turned the vehicle back on, Harry's eyes bulged when he saw the interior colors start shifting. Each move of the wheel that Fred made caused shimmering reflections to wash across the interior. The effect, along with Fred's somewhat erratic driving, made Harry a little nauseous.  
  
George grinned as he saw Harry's face pale a little. "We put the latest enchantments on this Harry, it's spectacular. No matter how the roads twist and curve, the car feels like we're just going on a straight path. Plus we've put invisibility charms, anti-detection jinxes, and anti-theft curses to keep it safe. Muggles think it is just a brightly painted vehicle and ignore it as we race by. Plus we added traffic evasion charms, and speed boosters to allow us to exceed normally safe speeds. We can get up to 150 miles per hour without a sweat. Of course at 151 it starts to shake and rattle so much that Fred passed out yesterday when I was driving. Need to work on that I guess. Want to see?"  
  
Harry weakly shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to try. He was overwhelmed by the view of curvy roads seeming to straighten themselves out for the twins car, muggle vehicles seemed to jump out of the way, and traffic lights went haywire as they approached busy intersections.  
  
After half an hour Harry decided he couldn't take it any more and climbed in to the back seat to lay down, hoping that if he wasn't able to see the roads, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He patiently put up with Fred and George's teasing, but resolved to find another way home after the party, even if it meant walking.  
  
When they arrived to a screeching halt at the Burrow, Harry gratefully flopped out of the car and gingerly tried to stand up. When the world finally stopped spinning he took a few cautious steps towards the oddly proportioned house that Harry always associated with warm feelings and pleasant times.  
  
Hermione and Ron came running out of the house to grab Harry in a big group hug, both wishing him a happy birthday at the same time.  
  
"Thanks, I think. Who thought it was a good idea to let the twins pick me up? They're more dangerous than a squad of death eaters. That car is, er, overwhelming." Harry still wasn't too sure of his footing and allowed his friends to grasp him on either side and walk him through the front door.  
  
Harry was pleased to see that Ron was nodding his head in agreement. "Bloody hell Harry, they're insane. I mean, they're my brothers and all, but they're certifiable. They took me on a short ride and I couldn't eat for a day."  
  
"That doesn't happen often does it?" Hermione asked archly. Ron pointedly ignored that comment.  
  
"They went so fast Fred and I passed out and George almost crashed. And they laughed at it. Mum was so mad, but they managed to calm her down, somehow."  
  
Harry weakly shook his head with laughter, but felt revived as he walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was obviously determined to outdo herself for his party and the smells almost made him swoon. He could smell various foods that were his favorites, and the mountain of sweets on the table, surrounding a massive sixteen layered birthday cake would have sent Hermione's parents into fits. Grinning, he took in the whole room, realizing that he would indeed have a happy birthday.  
  
He was pulled away from his thoughts by a loud scream of "Harry!" from Mrs. Weasley as she enveloped him in a massive hug.  
  
"Oh, happy birthday you dear boy, happy birthday! I'm so glad we could do this, though I know you would have wanted more of your friends to come, well, we just thought to keep it small. I hope you don't mind. Now we're just about ready for dinner, and Bill and Charlie are out back finishing the last preparations, so why don't you three go out and see what they've done."  
  
Bustling them out into the back yard, Harry murmured his thanks to Mrs. Weasley. When he walked in to the yard his jaw dropped. The Weasley's had converted the back yard into a large pavilion with thousands of lights. It was a professional Quidditch pitch. Harry was stunned. He turned to Ron who was grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Happy birthday mate," he said. "Watch this. Oi, Charlie, Harry's here, cast that charm now."  
  
Charlie was high up in the air on his broom, and Harry saw Bill up there as well. They waved their greetings to Harry and Charlie pulled out his wand, made a few curious gestures and cast an enchantment Harry had never seen before. As Charlie finished there appeared small blurs of light on two sides of the pitch that gradually grew larger and more distinct. Finally, as if wiping clear a dirty mirror, two opposing Quidditch teams took shape. One was the Chudley Cannons and the other Puddlemere United. Harry recognized several of the players, including his old Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood.  
  
A referee materialized out of nowhere and released the Snitch, signaling the start of the game. Harry stared in awe as the players rapidly performed intricate maneuvers over the pitch. Suddenly he saw the two Seekers dive toward him and he threw himself to the ground, trying to get out of the way. When they flew immediately over him, Harry was surprised that he didn't feel the wind rustle at all. He turned when he heard Ron's raucous laughter burst out, accompanied by Hermione's soft giggle.  
  
"Honestly Harry, they're not real," said Hermione. "It's an illusion. They're replaying the last game they played together. Charlie's controlling it with his wand. He can control individual players, or let others control them. It's the latest game that Fred and George invented, they think it will be a smash. We can even do it, since it isn't enough to trigger the Ministry's sensors on underage magic."  
  
His cheeks flashing red, Harry picked himself up off the ground with the air of dignity, pointedly ignoring Ron's muffled laughter and the catcalls from Bill and Charlie. He turned his attention back to the game that was taking place above him, amazed at the clarity of the illusion, and the mastery the players exhibited in their match. Hogwarts Quidditch was quick, but this was FAST. Harry was reminded of the last World Cup that had amazed him, and the players above were almost as good. He watched as the Chudley Beaters smacked both Bludgers at the unsuspecting Puddlemere Seeker. They clobbered him in midair and he fell rapidly. As Harry sucked in his breath he saw the Puddlemere Chaser drop into a steep and fast dive zooming straight for his falling Seeker. Time seemed to slow for Harry as he watched intently at the impending disaster. There was no way the Seeker would be caught. As if the Chaser had the same thought at the same time, Harry watched as the Chaser jumped from his broom, throwing himself at the falling Seeker. Catching him in an awkward embrace, they flipped in the air. Miraculously, the broom he had jumped off of came plummeting towards them. The Chaser grasped the handle with one hand and angled the broom in a way so that it leveled off, dragging the two players on the ground for several yards before finally stopping.  
  
Letting out an explosive breath, Harry was stunned by the audacity of the play. He watched in amazement as the Seeker's broom finally caught up with him, and the Seeker, after dazedly staring back up at the movement of the other players, jumped on his broom and shot up into the air, looking determinedly for the Snitch.  
  
"Wow," he said. "That was AWESOME. Did that really happen?" He looked at Ron who was also staring with amazement at the players. Ron had paled a bit at the maneuverings of the players and looked earnestly at Harry.  
  
"Please, please don't think of assuming that I'll catch you if you fall like that. I don't know if I'm that fast, and I'd hate to see my best friend splattered all over the Hogwart's pitch."  
  
Nodding his head in agreement, Harry laughed. But it did make a few stray thoughts about how to use that maneuver sometime in a desperate game.  
  
"Yeah, Harry, this is all based on a real game." Fred said from behind him.  
  
"We've got it set up to replicate about six games, we chose this one for that particular stunt," added George.  
  
"Now, this version of the game, is wicked. See, since Charlie's controlling it, he can cast a spell on you, and you can go up and play. It stops being an exact replica of the game since you wouldn't make the same moves as their Seeker, or whatever position you wanted to play. So it becomes an entirely new game. You can add as many players as you want, on either team. It's bloody wicked."  
  
Fred chimed in. "Yeah, we're going to sell it first just to Quidditch teams, we figure it will help with their practices and stuff. Imagine playing against the top teams while practicing? It's bound to be a smash."  
  
George laughed. "We don't think we want to sell it to the public yet. The spells are pretty complex. This version took us about 2 months of solid work, so its going to be very expensive. But, partner, why don't you get up there and give it a whirl?"  
  
Harry's grin faltered a bit. "Erm, I don't have my broom. It's still at Hogwarts. I never got it back from Umbridge and I forgot to ask Dumbledore for it." His eyes flashed at the memory of Dolores Umbridge banning him from Quidditch. He was pleased that Dumbledore had lifted his ban, but missed his broom.  
  
"I think I can rectify that," a familiar voice said from behind them. "Harry, you can consider this one of my presents to you on your birthday."  
  
Harry whirled around to see Professor Dumbledore holding his precious Firebolt. The Headmaster had an enormous smile on his face and his eyes were shooting sparks of mirth.  
  
"Misters Weasley stopped by Hogwarts a few weeks ago to seek Madame Hooch's opinion on their new game, and Professor Flitwick's. I naturally made the assumption that they would perhaps share this new invention with you today, so I thought you might want this."  
  
His hands trembling just a bit, Harry fondly grasped his broom. "Thanks Professor, this means a lot."  
  
Jumping upon his broom he kicked off into the air and shot up towards Charlie and Bill. As the evening breeze whirled around him Harry felt a sensation of peace and relaxation that had eluded him for months. Ever since that evil hag had taken away his broom, Harry felt something missing. He couldn't quite place it, but he knew that he was denied something.  
  
As he raced around the field, dodging the illusionary players who were shaking their fists angrily at him for interrupting their game, Harry's heart raced with glee. He was free! He performed flips, dives, and raced back and forth across the pitch. He made quick accelerations and sudden stops, shaking off any kinks that months of inability to fly had cropped up in to his technique. After about ten minutes passed he realized that his friends below were cheering and clapping. As he returned his attention to them, he blushed, realizing that he had completely forgotten that they were there. He was pleased, however, to see that even Professor Dumbledore was modestly clapping for Harry.  
  
As he dove down and made a perfect landing in front of his friends, Hermione raced up and gave him a great big hug. "Oh Harry, you looked so happy. What a perfect day!"  
  
Smiling, Harry agreed. "That was perfect. Just what I needed. I felt like me again. Thanks Professor," he said, nodding to the headmaster. Dumbledore nodded sagely in return, and offered Harry another smile.  
  
"I'm pleased to see that your abilities remain undiminished. I expect that you will help your friend Ronald maintain the Cup this year, of course not that I should have an opinion on that matter." As he said that a mischievous smile cropped up on his face, and he let out a hearty laugh. Harry and his friends joined in his laughter.  
  
Just then Mrs. Weasley stepped out of the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready. Fred, George, and Ron darted towards the house, pushing each other out of the way as they tried to make it first to the table. Bill and Charlie flew their brooms down and landed right in front of them, forcing the three younger brothers to contend with them for access to the house. Harry and Hermione quietly walked behind them with Professor Dumbledore, wisely avoiding the mad rush of the Weasley boys. Harry and Hermione knew from long experience with Ron to avoid getting in between him and the table when food was served. Apparently Dumbledore had learned this lesson as well after years of watching all of the boys at Hogwarts as well.  
  
"All six boys are like this," he said with merriment. "I would watch with amazement as each of them, William, Charles, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron would start their first year at school trying to consume as much as possible. At first I was worried that they thought we only ate once a day, but then I realized that they eat like this at every meal. Quite extraordinary." He continued to chuckle as he watched the five boys struggling at the door. Grinning, he pulled out his wand and muttered a soft spell under his breath.  
  
The five boys disappeared and the entrance was free to walk through. Harry and Hermione followed Dumbledore through, turning around when they heard yells of indignation. Startled, they broke out in laughter as they saw each Weasley was back in the yard, cement blocks encasing their feet. Instead of hampering their attempt to swarm the house, it seemed only to add fuel to each boys desire to be first. Slowly, but surely, they all strenuously lifted their legs with tremendous effort, making steady progress back toward the door. Harry and Hermione quickly entered the house, not wanting to get in the way.  
  
Laughing, they sat down at the expanded table while Mrs. Weasley stared in consternation out the window. When Professor Dumbledore urged her to sit down, she hesitantly did.  
  
With a loud pop, Dumbledore's spell was broken and the yells of glee from the backyard caused everyone at the table to laugh. They listened with interest as the boys struggled to push themselves through the door.  
  
Charlie emerged victorious, making his way through the door first. Then Ron managed to get through, followed by Bill. Finally Fred and George walked through together with tremendous dignity, as if they had intended to be last all along.  
  
Giving each of her boys a scolding look, she thanked Professor Dumbledore for providing some entertainment. Then she told everyone to dig in and start eating.  
  
As if unleashed, the serving dishes started floating around the table, quickly offering their dishes to the guests. Mrs. Weasley had obviously outdone herself, and the food was spectacular. A pleasant silence settled on the room as the guests were obviously enjoying the meal. Fred and George seemed in a contest to eat the most, with Ron already leagues ahead of them. Hermione looked somewhat nauseated at the amount of food they were shoveling into their mouths, so turned to have a quiet conversation with Ginny who seemed somewhat subdued that evening.  
  
Harry soaked up the atmosphere, thrilled to finally have an actual birthday party. He looked across the table to Mrs. Weasley who was watching him with slightly watery eyes, he mouthed his thanks, and she nodded her head as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.  
  
Finishing his meal, Harry turned to Mr. Weasley and asked if they could step outside for a few minutes. Not bothering to cover his surprise, Mr. Weasley nodded his agreement and they quietly stepped out into the back yard. Harry noticed that the Quidditch players were no longer playing their game, and laughed when he saw that they were lounging around the pitch, obviously bored.  
  
Walking a bit away from the house, to prevent being overheard, Harry looked up at Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I wanted to talk with you about a few things. I don't know what Professor Dumbledore may have told you, or what you've heard at the office, but I am going to testify at the trials this week."  
  
"I understand that Harry. I'm very proud of you. That's not going to be easy, but you are doing the right thing."  
  
"Erm, thanks. But I really wanted to talk about something else. Have you heard about my position with the Daily Prophet? The meeting next week?"  
  
"Actually, Harry, I have. You see, Sirius was a generous man. Not only did he help us pay the mortgage on the Burrow, and leave us a vault of money, well he gave me a few shares of stock in the Prophet as well. His letter indicated that you got most of his stock, but he also seemed to think that you'd need my help. I got the letter calling for a shareholder meeting, and I fully intend to be there."  
  
"Excellent. Do you think you can help? The only reason we have to have this meeting is because of Fudge. He's interfering again. I would have thought that he might have changed his attitude a bit after everything that happened, but apparently not."  
  
Sighing, Mr. Weasley patted Harry's shoulder. "No, if anything he seems a bit worse. Now that he believes Dumbledore, Fudge wants to make it look like the Ministry is fully in charge. He's still watching obsessively to make sure that no one gives information to Dumbledore, and he's not really doing anything effective to defeat You-Know-Who."  
  
"Voldemort, Mr. Weasley. Voldemort. You have to say his name. You have to help detract from the fear."  
  
Wincing, Mr. Weasley nodded. "Fine, fine. We aren't recruiting more Aurors, we aren't changing any laws. All Fudge is doing is telling people he's back, to report suspicious activity, and that the Ministry has everything under control. Fortunately when you and Dumbledore thwarted You- Know-" a glare from Harry made Mr. Weasley falter. Paling, he continued. "V-Voldemort's plans, well, he seems to have avoided any displays of power. We think he's trying to come up with some masterful plan, maybe a direct attack on the Ministry or Hogwarts. Dumbledore seems particularly concerned about the train, but we just don't know. But still Fudge is not really doing anything."  
  
"That's my point. Fudge seems more concerned about my getting a seat on the board of the Prophet than he is about stopping Voldemort. I have a plan, but I need your help. I realized that things need to change, and change quite a bit if we are going to win. We need to make sacrifices so that we don't lose more people, we need to disrupt our lives so that those that won't or can't help us can be safe. Can you help me?"  
  
"Of course Harry. Sirius left me enough money that I can quit the Ministry. What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Don't quit. We need you there. Trust me. I have a plan, and Dumbledore thinks it will work. We have to keep some of it secret, even from you, but it will work. If you trust me."  
  
"Harry, I'm used to trusting Dumbledore with anything. I've learned that I can trust you with the lives of my children, you've saved them both. I think I can trust you with my life as well. Tell mw what you need, and I'll do it to the best of my ability."  
  
Harry had hoped that the conversation would lead to this conclusion, but had feared that an adult might not be able to trust him so implicitly. Although he was shocked by Mr. Weasley's statement, he knew he could not afford to show it at this point in time.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I just need you to state your support for me at the meeting. And if it comes up, you should point out that you have been part of the Order for a long time. Professor Dumbledore is going to make the Order's existence more public this week. At the trial of Malfoy. I just need you to make it clear that you belong to the Order, despite working for the Ministry, and that you believe me and Dumbledore. We'll decimate Fudge's arguments against my serving on the board, and I think the meeting will lead to some important changes."  
  
Nodding his agreement, Mr. Weasley pondered the implications of Dumbledore's planned disclosure of the Order.  
  
"I'm afraid if the Order is made public, Fudge will fire me immediately. But I'll do what you two ask. We need your plan to work, whatever it is, so if you think this is best I'll do it. Now, if we're done plotting the takeover of the wizarding world, let's get to the important part: birthday cake and presents."  
  
Grinning, Mr. Weasley turned Harry back towards the Burrow just as Mrs. Weasley had stepped out to call them back in. Seeing the serious looks on both their faces she stopped just short of lecturing them for skipping part of Harry's party. Instead she waited for them to get up to the house, grabbed Harry in another firm hug, and informed him that it was his obligation to open presents, eat some sweets, and have a good time.  
  
Smiling, he hugged her back, and walked into the kitchen where he was greeted with another round of cheers. The table had been cleared, and in the center of the table stood a veritable mountain of presents. Harry was surprised at the sheer number of presents and fleetingly wished his cousin Dudley could have seen how many gifts there were for him. Smiling at that thought he sat down at the table and looked expectantly up at Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Before you open the presents, we'll have the cake first." She summoned the sixteen layer cake that threatened to topple over at any moment. Harry was convinced that it stayed together solely by the sheer will of Mrs. Weasley. As the cake landed with a soft thud in front of Harry, sixteen candles on each layer magically lit up, bathing the room in a soft glow that illuminated every corner of the room. Smiling, Harry sat bemusedly as the group entered into the most disparate versions of the birthday song he had ever heard, with every person singing it to a different tune. True to form the twins picked the slowest version, chanting in an obscure dialect of some language that Harry thought was distantly related to Gobbledegook. Laughing as they struggled to finish without taking another breath, the whole crowd burst into applause and cheered Harry on as he blew out all of the candles.  
  
Mrs. Weasley pushed the cake aside to serve it and motioned to Harry to start opening the presents. Hagrid shoved his forward, and asked Harry to open his first. With trepidation Harry gingerly pulled at the wrapping paper, fully expecting it to be a dangerous books or otherwise unpredictable gift from his unusual friend. Instead, he was surprised to discover that it seemed entirely safe and almost normal. That is, for Hagrid.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"Eh, yeh don' know what it is, do yeh?" Hagrid replied, smiling. "Easy Harry, it's a whistle that only dragons, griffins, chimeras, and phoenixes kin hear. If yeh blow on it, it's like a distress signal, and a friendly animal will come help yeh."  
  
"Blimey," muttered Ron to Hermione. "Who ever heard of a friendly dragon or chimera? He's absolutely nutters at times." Ron gulped when Hermione pointedly stepped on his foot and kept any other thoughts to himself.  
  
Harry started opening other presents, thanking those there for gifts they had given him. All in all he had quite an excellent pile of gifts. Some practical, like Hagrid's whistle, others strictly silly like Ron's Chudley Cannons poster and box of chocolate frogs. "I have to follow Sirius' will, you know," he had said when Harry opened it. Hermione had given him a book, Dueling Tactics of Famous Dark Wizards, that she said would be good to learn from as an insight into the mind of Deatheaters. Lupin gave him an amulet that he said would change Harry's voice if he wore it, and Moody suggested that would come in handy as an Auror, and Harry blushed at the intended compliment. Ginny had given him a small wooden box, decorated with various handpainted flowers. It was lovely, though a trifle feminine for Harry. Looking at her questioningly, he asked her what it was.  
  
"Erm," she started, blushing furiously. "It's a Secret Box. Once you cast the charm inside only you will be able to open the box up. You can keep stuff in there that you don't want others to see. If you press on the sides it can expand inside, so you can even keep bigger things in there if you want."  
  
Harry thanked her, blushing a bit at the catcalls from the twins when Mrs. Weasley interrupted them by pulling out the last present from her and Mr. Weasley. It was a tiny, thin package, smaller than the rest of the gifts he had already opened. When everyone in the room quickly silenced themselves, Harry looked up with wonderment. All the Weasley's were looking at him expectedly as he turned the package over in his hands. Shrugging, he tore open the package and it revealed a tiny wooden box. Opening the box he saw that it was a piece of well crafted, highly shined wood that bore his name and a small picture of his head on it. Looking up, he saw tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes and he realized what it was.  
  
"It's, erm, it's. . ." his eyes misted up and he found his throat going a bit dry. "It's for your clock. You've given me a hand for your clock."  
  
He stood up, bewildered by this precious gift, and quietly walked over to Mrs. Weasley. For the first time Harry recalled he initiated the hug and hugged this wonderful woman with all his might. Her arms reached around him, pulling him close, and she planted a great big kiss on his head. Mr. Weasley was sniffling just a bit as he reached over and patted Harry on the shoulder. Suddenly all the Weasley boys, and Ginny, rushed up from their seats and grabbed Harry into a massive family hug.  
  
Harry's head was spinning and his heart was overflowing with the love that he felt. Looking across the room, he smiled at the other guests and whispered "Happy Birthday to me." 


	5. Attack at Privet Drive

Author's Note:  
  
Wow, thanks for the positive feedback. Makes me happy!  
  
I've had a few moments to think about some of the reviews, so here goes:  
  
Leaps - I'm not making any promises, but I do not anticipate much mush between Harry and Ginny. I am definitely in their camp and predict that they will eventually get together, but eventually is not now, maybe something will happen in this fic, but I'd suspect it's not till the next one that anything really happens. Two things though. First, she'd never, ever become a meek 'yes Harry' type person. She's independent, smarter than heck, and very opinionated. There's a reason her brothers are scared of her. Second, Ron and Hermione are not now, and never will be minor characters. Stay tuned for Chapter 6 (lots of mush, but it is necessary).  
  
Shadow Bandit - Thanks for the tip, fixed that now. Harry's a good person at heart, but faces a lot.  
  
Kateydidnt - good point on scabbers. In my view, the protection never showed up before because no one ever tried anything on him while he was staying with his Aunt. Since the Dementors don't cast spells, I think their magic would get through in OOTP. Once he gets to Hogwarts the protection is gone.  
  
And thanks to all others for the encouragement!  
  
Now, on with the show. Sorry if it gets a little anxious. Not too sorry though. :)  
  
Chapter Five - Attack at Privet Drive  
  
Fortunately Harry did not have to suffer through another ride with the twins. Professor Dumbledore took pity on Harry after taking one quick look at the car and immediately created a portkey for Harry that would take him directly to Harry's room. When the party ended, and all the sweets had been eaten, Harry quickly bundled up all of the gifts that he was taking home with him and thanked the Weasley's for the best birthday he had ever had.  
  
Grabbing hold of the portkey, Harry felt the quick jerk at his navel and collapsed on his bed when he arrived.  
  
- - -  
  
The next day Harry woke up with a bad case of the nerves. After a short conversation with Professor Dumbledore before he left the Weasley's, they had decided that it was going to be his last day working with Mr. Smith, and he dreaded having to say goodbye. Quickly running through his morning routine he bounded out of the house at Privet Drive and started running to the park. When he got there he searched for a while before he finally found Mr. Smith sitting near the weeping willow by the pond.  
  
As Harry approached his friend, Harry saw that he looked quite sad. Concerned Harry debated whether to bother him, when Mr. Smith looked up and smiled at Harry.  
  
"Morning, lad. I hope you had a good time last night." Seeing Harry's automatic smile seemed to lighten Mr. Smith's mood. He reached out a hand and had Harry help pull him up off the ground.  
  
"Well, I hate to start such a glorious day like this, but I'm afraid I have some bad news. This is our last day together," Mr. Smith said. "You see, Harry, I've been called away to another job. I had hoped that I'd never have to go back there, but in these trying times, well, we all do what we must. But I'm sure you know that feeling. Those of us with duties feel the pull of them quite strongly."  
  
Harry wasn't entirely sure what Mr. Smith was referring to, especially his comment about 'trying times.' As far as Harry knew, the muggle world was relatively peaceful as compared to his world. Not wanting to argue with his friend, Harry smiled a bit and breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Mr. Smith, I'm actually glad to hear you say that, in a way. You see, I was going to have to tell you that today was going to be my last day too. I have to take care of a few things at school this week, and my headmaster told me last night that he wants me to take some extra lessons before the school year starts, so I'm leaving my Aunt's tomorrow morning and won't be back until next summer."  
  
That wasn't entirely true, but Harry wasn't sure how to explain that he had to testify at the trial of Deatheaters and that the charm surrounding him would now last through the summer, regardless of where he stayed. When Professor Dumbledore strongly suggested Harry move in to number 12 Grimmauld Place as opposed to the Burrow, Harry agreed. Dumbledore had also suggested that it would be acceptable for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny move in with Harry during the trials and for the rest of the summer if Harry wished. Mrs. Weasley objected at first, but agreed that it would be for the best when Harry asked her to help clean up the house and that he wanted to spend time with her as well. Harry had learned that Mrs. Weasley had a very difficult time saying no to him right now, and since it was true that he wanted to spend time with her, well it wasn't exactly a fib, was it?  
  
Mr. Smith was busy nodding his head, and Harry was pleased that he wasn't upset. Instead of trying to get any work accomplished, as most of the strenuous labor had already been finished in the previous weeks, the two of them spent the day walking around the park, talking amiably about nothing in particular and enjoying each other's company. Harry hoped it wasn't the last peaceful day of his summer, but with everything that awaited him when he left, he knew it was possible to be the last quiet one for him.  
  
As the day came to an end, Harry gave Mr. Smith a firm handshake and thanked him profusely for everything the kind man had done for him all through the summer.  
  
"Don't mention it, Harry. It was truly my pleasure. Despite what your Aunt may say, you're a good lad, and a fine person. It's been an honor to meet you and I'm glad I was able to help you relax during this summer. The way you talk, I get the sense that you're anticipating another tough year, so I hope you'll have fond memories of our time together. Stay in touch if you ever need anything." Handing Harry a small business card, Harry pocketed it without looking at it and agreed that he'd get in touch if necessary.  
  
Smiling, Harry nodded his head and walked back to his Aunt's house for the last time that summer. As he walked casually towards Privet Drive he slowly became aware of an almost unnatural quiet that seemed to have pervaded the neighborhood. Harry noticed that there were no birds flying about, or dogs barking. The local tomcats weren't conducting their usual evening symphony and the noisy children seemed to be missing.  
  
It was unusual, to say the least. The absence of the normal sounds of a quiet evening pounded at Harry's head. Nervously he reached into his pocket, and grabbed hold of his wand. Eyes darting around, he picked up his pace as he tried to look in every direction without losing sight of his destination.  
  
As he rounded the corner onto Privet Drive, Harry's heart leapt into his throat. There were half a dozen wizards dressed in black robes with white masks surrounding his Aunt's house. Deatheaters were casting spell after spell, curses, jinxes, hexes, and worse, aiming them at the Dursley residence. From his position Harry thought he could see a shimmering glow surround the house and the spells were reflected in multiple directions, blasting neighboring houses, trees, and the road.  
  
Even from this distance he could hear them cursing at each other as they tried to figure out how to make it into the house. He couldn't quite figure out who was there, but he didn't particularly care. All Harry knew was that they were evil and he needed to do something about it.  
  
Hiding behind a nearby house, Harry grabbed his wand firmly, realizing that he was about to get into trouble with the Ministry at a time when he couldn't really afford it.  
  
"Plan or no plan, I can't let these bastards get into the house, they'll kill Aunt Petunia," Harry muttered. Summoning his strength, he fixed his thoughts firmly and cast his first spell in over a month. "Accio whistle."  
  
He waited. Slowly he heard a soft rushing noise and the present from Hagrid came soaring at him. Harry reached out and grabbed it. Hoping against hope, Harry quickly put the whistle to his lips, fervently praying that it wouldn't make a sound the Deatheaters would hear, and he blew.  
  
"Thank Merlin," he thought. "No sound. Now I just have to wait." Fortunately Harry didn't have to wait long. A bright flash exploded in front of him and Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, appeared from the smoke. Fawkes was truly a beautiful bird, and Harry again was amazed at the power that emanated from him.  
  
"Fawkes," he breathed. "I need you to tell Dumbledore that there are Deatheaters here. Six of them. Can you do that? Tell him I need help."  
  
Fawkes gravely looked at Harry and nodded his head. Giving Harry a wink that he was sure Dumbledore had taught the majestic bird, Fawkes jumped into the air and disappeared with another flash of fire.  
  
Knowing that Fawkes wouldn't let him down, Harry felt secure that Dumbledore would come with help. As he peered around the corner to see what was happening, Harry's blood started to boil. The Deatheaters, seemingly giving up hope that they could break down the impenetrable barrier between them and Harry had taken a hostage. They apparently had a good source of information too, because a burly, menacing looking wizard had a hand firmly clamped around Arabella Figg's throat. As the burly wizard struggled with Mrs. Figg to keep her still, the taller leader of the Deatheaters cast a charm on his throat, his voice reverberating through the neighborhood.  
  
"Come out young Harry, or we'll kill this pathetic Squib. We know you have a fondness for freaks and misfits, so come out or she's dead." It was a dark and menacing voice, one that Harry would have sworn he had heard before. He couldn't quite place the voice, but its familiarity nagged at him.  
  
Quickly thinking, Harry decided on a course of action. He picked up a shiny rock and transfigured it into a mirror. He cast a sticking charm on the back and then banished the mirror to a tree near the Deatheater holding Mrs. Figg. He was glad that the wizard was distracted by her struggles and failed to notice the mirror flying toward him.  
  
Aiming very carefully Harry shot a stunning spell at the mirror and it reflected perfectly and hit his target. He fell to the ground with a thump and Mrs. Figg was free. She quickly tried to scramble away before another Deatheater grabbed her, but got tripped up over her captors body. As she fell to the ground, Harry cast another spell, shouting "Accio Mrs. Figg!" at the top of his lungs, and she came zooming towards him.  
  
While this was successful in freeing Mrs. Figg, it also had the unfortunate effect of alerting the other Deatheaters to Harry's presence. As Mrs. Figg soared through the air, the five remaining Deatheaters snapped their heads in his direction and started walking in his direction. Wands at the ready, he heard them whispering to each other and suddenly one of the Deatheaters disapparated with a loud crack.  
  
Realizing that his advantage of surprise was gone, Harry grabbed at Mrs. Figg and helped her to the ground. Telling her firmly to stay put, he ran in a diagonal away from Mrs. Figg and the Deatheaters. Hoping to stall them long enough to give Dumbledore enough time to arrive, Harry quickly cast several jinxes over his shoulder and kept running. Pleased when he heard at least one of his pursuers curse with pain, Harry ducked behind a tree to watch what they did next.  
  
Quickly coming to a halt several yards away from Harry, the Deatheaters huddled to plot strategy. Two of them stood and disapparated and Harry heard loud pops as they apparated directly behind him. Taking a deep breath, Harry ran in another direction, trying to get them all to follow him again. He ducked as he heard various curses being cast in his direction, and summoned a nearby rake that he saw out of the corner of his eye. Breaking the rake in two, Harry quickly transfigured one end into a sharp dagger. Taking quick aim learned from years of searching for a tiny Snitch, Harry threw the dagger with all of his might at the nearest Deatheater. As the wizards dodged the dangerous object, Harry quickly cast another spell, shouting "Wingardium Leviosa!" and swished his wand. Suddenly he controlled the dagger and sent it plunging viciously into the back of the wizard who had just ducked out of the way. It slurped into the base of the wizard's spine, and Harry heard a sharp crunch as the dagger dug into bone, severing his spinal column.  
  
The agonized scream pleased Harry more than he would have liked to admit, but a savage smile burst out on his face. With another swish, the dagger leapt out of the Deatheater's back with a sickening slosh and Harry sent it soaring toward the chest of another of his enemies. As the wizard dove out of the way, Harry sent the dagger diving deep into his buttocks. Throwing another quick spell, the metal elongated and pushed through the wizard, bursting out of his hip, and digging into the ground, impaling the Deatheater where he lay. Another mischievous smile alighted on Harry's face. He quickly summoned the wands of the fallen wizards and, grabbing the other half of the rake firmly in his hand, he turned to run some more.  
  
But his way was stopped by the last two wizards he had forgotten about as he was busy using the rake to exact some vengeance on his pursuers. The two Deatheaters towered over him, their wands pointed directly at him. The taller one leaned forward and spoke in a deathly calm voice.  
  
"Drop your wand boy, we're not playing games today."  
  
Harry sneered at the idiot in front of him. "Sorry, you'll have to curse me. I'd strongly suggest the Cruciatus. In fact, I really want you to. C'mon, curse me you idiots. You fools."  
  
"We know better than that boy," the leader of this strike spoke with contempt, his voice still naggingly familiar to Harry. "We know what happened to Wormtail."  
  
"Oh please, you lackeys know nothing. Voldemort wouldn't tell you anything important. If he did, you'd be smarter than to show up here. You know Dumbledore is on his way, probably with half a dozen Aurors. You'll be lucky to escape without serious injury, unlike your toadies over there. Pretty soon you'll be surrounded and that half-mudblood, Voldemort, will have lost five more of his simpering rodents, and I'll spend the evening laughing about stabbing one of you fools in the arse."  
  
Harry watched as the two Deatheaters struggled to control their temper. Laughing at their distress, Harry egged them on even more.  
  
"That's right, you probably don't know. Your boss' mother was a witch, but his dad was a Muggle. Bet you didn't know that did you? The vaunted leader of all you stupid fools has dirty blood. How does that make you feel? How do you feel when Voldemort tells you what to do, knowing that his dear old Mum slept with a pathetic, disgusting Muggle? Why, Voldie could have been born a Squib! Imagine that, the most evil man in the century, just a chromosome or two away from being pathetic Squib."  
  
It worked. Harry's words did what he had wanted. The junior Deatheater couldn't control his anger any more. Despite his leader shouting at him to stop, he drew back his wand and thrust it forward, shouting "Crucio!" at Harry. Harry laughed as the air shimmered with a white glow, and again the scent of fresh rain bombarded Harry's senses. As he watched the dreadful curse bounce away from him back at its owner it hit with a satisfying crack as the spell intersected with the Deatheater, sending him into convulsions. Screaming, he collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony.  
  
His companion danced away with disgust, spitting in anger.  
  
"You fool, you idiot. We knew this would happen, we knew that it would bounce back."  
  
"Yeah," interrupted Harry. "But he was too stupid to let me insult his precious little Voldie. Too proud of the filthy, disgusting animal to let a mere teenager insult him. After all, I've already defeated him once, and everyone knows I'm going to do it again. That's got to tick you off just a little, I'd imagine."  
  
"I will not be fooled, Potter," the Deatheater snapped. "I know better. I'm here to deliver this."  
  
The remaining Deatheater threw a small metallic object at Harry. Harry's well-honed Quidditch instincts forced his hand into the air to catch the object, while his mind screamed at him to let it drop. As the object sailed towards him, physical instinct and intellect warred within each other.  
  
Intellect won.  
  
Harry quickly batted the object back at the Deatheater who gasped with surprise. Making yet another mistake, he plucked the object from the air and promptly disappeared with a pop. It was obviously a portkey and Harry shook with relief that he hadn't caught it.  
  
Turning, he surveyed the wreckage of his neighborhood. Four wizards were lying around, one still screaming in agony as the effects of the Cruciatus was still hitting him, two others moaning in agony from their wounds from the transfigured dagger, and the third, back near the Dursley's house, still stunned from Harry's first spell.  
  
Arabella Figg got up from where Harry had told her to stay, and raced over to Harry. Quickly examining him, she breathed a sigh of relief when he was not harmed.  
  
"We'd better clean this up as best we can, Harry. I don't know why Dumbledore isn't here yet, or where the Ministry is, but there'll be hell to pay from both. He'll be furious that you were left unprotected again, but we'll have to deal with the Ministry again. That was a lot of magic you just went through. Fortunately we have evidence this time."  
  
She motioned to all the Deatheaters on the ground and turned to Harry.  
  
"Well, the cat's out of the bag now, pull them all together and let's get them in to my house. I can try and find someone by Floo and figure out why no one is here yet."  
  
Harry agreed with Arabella and quickly threw out a few spells to pull the bodies to him. He first cast several silencing spells to keep the agonized screams from disturbing Mrs. Figg. Harry pointedly did not cease the spell wracking through the body of the wizard who had tried to curse him. Then he floated each of the Deatheaters and pushed them ahead of him with his wand. Harry directed them into Mrs. Figg's house, and dropped them unceremoniously in the living room. Mrs. Figg walked to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and shoved her head into the fire.  
  
After ensuring that none of the wizards were capable of movement, he took each of their wands and quickly broke them individually over his knee. Each wand let off a loud bang and colorful sparks as they were broken. As he broke the last one, the wizard's wand that had tried to hit Harry with the Cruciatus, Harry saw a bigger flash as that dreadful spell finally stopped. The wizard collapsed, inert, on the floor, and Harry saw blood trickling out of his mouth as he gasped for air. Harry grimly stunned the Deatheater, to ensure nothing else happened, and put all the broken wand halves in his pocket.  
  
He finally realized how exhausted he was from the intense affair, and the surge of adrenaline that had powered his movements finished, leaving him weak as he collapsed into a chair. He waited, growing more impatient as Arabella continued to keep her head in the fireplace. After several minutes she resignedly withdrew her head and looked at Harry.  
  
"Well, I finally found someone. I talked with Molly. She and her children are on their way. There was an, incident. But Dumbledore was prepared I guess."  
  
"What do you mean? What kind of incident?" Harry demanded.  
  
"Well, Molly seems to think that You-Know-Who was planning an attempt on Azkaban, he really wanted to rescue Malfoy and the others. When you showed up at your Aunt's did one of them disappear?" Seeing Harry's head nod, she continued.  
  
"Apparently He was hoping you'd use magic and call attention to yourself, pulling Dumbledore and the Ministry off of their track. Molly thinks Dumbledore had a plan, but she didn't know all the details because she missed the last Order meeting planning for your party."  
  
As a flash of guilt shot across Harry's face, Arabella barked out a laughed.  
  
"Don't worry about it boy. Not everyone always knows everything. She wasn't upset, she knew that she didn't know something and didn't want to worry us by speculating. She'll be here soon, apparently she was going to use the twins' car."  
  
Harry's eyes goggled at that, but he didn't say anything. Instead he looked at the prisoners, and sighed when he saw they were all still stunned.  
  
"What should we do about them?" he asked. "Should we send them somewhere? What about Hogwarts? Or the Ministry?"  
  
"Molly said to keep them here. She knows what to do with them, I guess. She said to make sure they stay stunned, but that's it."  
  
Harry nodded reluctantly and sank back into the comfortable seat. Half an hour passed and he heard a loud commotion outside. Grabbing his wand firmly in his hand, he opened the door, prepared to cast several spells simultaneously. He couldn't decide between sighing and laughing when he saw the disastrously painted car that he knew belonged to the twins come careening towards Mrs. Figg's house. With an insanely loud screech the car came to an abrupt stop and the doors flew open. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny leapt out of the car, all three incredibly green in the face and none walking steadily. The car gave a merry hoot and backed out of the neighborhood on its own accord. It gave one loud blast of its horn and then flitted away from Privet Drive at an impossible speed.  
  
"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Where's the car going?" Harry asked, hoping that normal conversation would help Mrs. Weasley regain her composure.  
  
"Hello dear. The twins put a Homing Charm on it, the car returns to their shop at Diagon Alley. I swear I'll never drive in it again. Unless of course there's another emergency. But even then..." she paused as a final wave of nausea crept along her face. Standing perfectly still, she counted to ten while the unpleasant feeling faded, then smiled grimly at Harry.  
  
"I understand that you've had another active day? My heart almost stopped when I looked up at the clock. Oddly it only flitted to 'Mortal Peril' for a few moments. For the most part it was locked on 'In Battle' and you made a new face appear that read 'Dreadfully Pissed Off.' I've never seen that happen, but you are extraordinary aren't you?" she said. "Well, can't be helped. Can't be helped. Dumbledore was worried about this, but said you'd be able to take care of yourself if we weren't around. He was confident, as he always is. I can't say he wasn't right of course, but you are still so young. We should have thought of something. Oh my!"  
  
Mrs. Weasley kept speaking as Harry led her into Mrs. Figg's house and stopped abruptly when she saw the mangled bodies lying on the floor. Stepping over them she waved her wand and cast several quick spells. Metallic ropes shot out of her wand, binding each Deatheater up in tight chains. Gags and blindfolds came out next, tying themselves around each of the dark wizards, and finally she cast anti-apparition jinxes on them. "Not as powerful as Dumbledore could do, mind you, but he taught us the basics."  
  
Turning to Harry, she looked at him with a difference in her eyes. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that Mrs. Weasley was looking at him differently than she ever had before. It wasn't quite fear and it wasn't quite awe, but it was not entirely pleasant. Shaking it off Harry looked at the motherly woman and offered a small smile.  
  
"Erm, thanks for coming. I'm sorry to be a bother," he said before Ron interrupted.  
  
"Sorry? You're bloody sorry? Four Deatheaters are lying in a mealy pulp on the floor, and you did it yourself, mind you, and you're sorry? You should be bloody proud mate. You staved 'em off, again. Alone this time. How's that possible? They can't be that incompetent?"  
  
Harry flashed his best friend a grin but looked out of the corner of his eye. When he realized that Mrs. Weasley wasn't truly upset with him, he looked at her straight on. Whatever the look she had given him before was, it had disappeared, and now she looked at him with love, concern, and a fierce pride. Encouraged by her small smile and nod, he started to tell them what had happened.  
  
Interrupted at points by all three Weasleys, and occasionally by Mrs. Figg, Harry made it most of the way through the story.  
  
"I don't understand what happened when he threw the Cruciatus at you, Harry," Mrs. Weasley interrupted at that point of the story. "What happened?"  
  
"Erm, I don't really know. The same thing that had happened with Wormtail, I suppose. It was like a shield of some kind. I heard a soft murmuring of music or voices, I could smell something pleasant, and then the spell shot back at the idiot who cast it. He was caught in it for a long time, too. I don't think it stopped until I broke his wand a few minutes ago."  
  
"What do you mean, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked again. "No one could cast a Cruciatus for that long. What sustained it?"  
  
"Dumbledore said that spells thrown at me would rebound and be multiplied, unless I ended it before hand. I, erm, didn't want to end it, so I left him alone."  
  
"He was being hit by that for over 20 minutes? A full curse, without let- up? That's, um, wow."  
  
"He deserved it," Harry said flatly. "They threatened Mrs. Figg. They threatened me. I didn't do it intentionally, but I wasn't going to let him off easy. Shows them to choose to follow Voldemort."  
  
Everyone in the room paled at his name, but Ron and Ginny were nodding their heads in agreement. Mrs. Weasley saw this and sighed, but didn't say anything to Harry. Instead she reached out to him and grabbed him up in one of her patented hugs.  
  
"Well, I'm relieved that you are safe, and that Arabella is okay. Dumbledore should be here soon, and he'll take care of everything."  
  
***  
  
Unfortunately Mrs. Weasley was wrong. After an hour had passed, and Mrs. Weasley grew increasingly distressed, she started pacing by the window.  
  
"There's such a mess out there, and so many people had to see. We just can't wait for the Ministry. We have to start cleaning this up. There'll be hell to pay, but that's the way the world is nowadays."  
  
Squaring her shoulders she moved to the front door, only to be interrupted by Harry.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, let me help? Please? I made this mess, I'd like to help clean it up."  
  
"Harry dear, you are not responsible-" she started to speak, but Harry interrupted her.  
  
"I know, I know. But I still did this, and I have to help clean it up. Trust me, it's important, and maybe it will help with the Ministry."  
  
Sighing, Mrs. Weasley reluctantly agreed. She turned to examine the unconscious Deatheaters and motioned to Ron and Ginny.  
  
"If they so much as move, call for help. Harry and I will be outside and we'll run back immediately."  
  
"But Mum, we want to help too!" Ron begged, with Ginny nodding her head in agreement.  
  
"Nonsense, you can't use Harry's excuse of being in a life threatening situation. The Minister would only be too happy to expel you because of your father and your friendship with Harry. We have to be smart, and safe. Watch these men and let us know if they start to awaken."  
  
Her tone of voice brooked no opposition, and Ron and Ginny nodded their heads, throwing somewhat dirty looks at the Deatheaters, obviously hoping that they'd wake up a little so Ron and Ginny could inflict some personal damage.  
  
Mrs. Weasley marched Harry out of the house and started examining the damage. Deciding on a course of action, she directed Harry to starting cleaning and repairing the damage from the reflected spells and started going house to house, wiping the memory of the muggles who had unfortunately seen too much. It was tiring work, and the two of them kept at it for over an hour, still without sign or spell from the Ministry or Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Finally, as Harry was repairing the last of the obvious destruction, he heard a loud pop of several wizards appear behind him. Whirling around he was startled to see Percy and several older wizards brandishing their wands at him, obviously distressed about something.  
  
Calmly, Harry slowly relaxed and stopped pointing his wand at the newly arrived group. He immediately regretted that when Percy withdrew an official parchment from his robes and started speaking in a pompous voice.  
  
"Harry Potter you are accused of performing underage magic to an extraordinary level. The Ministry has recorded over one hundred spells being performed by you in the past several hours, many of them of complex and sophisticated means that cannot be explained by accident or to secure your life.  
  
"The Minister of Magic has ordered the confiscation of your wand and your immediate arrest and transportation to the Ministry headquarters where you will be tried immediately.  
  
"Please hand over your wand and submit to these officials from the Office of the Minister."  
  
Harry knew for a certainty that his hand on the clock back at the Burrow was certain to read a new measure of 'Inordinately, Incredibly, Amazingly Dreadfully Pissed Off' and he was scared to imagine what Mrs. Weasley's face was pointing to. Her anger was palpable, and it hit Harry like a tidal wave. She had just finished wiping the memory of the last muggles to have seen the battle when she saw Percy and the Ministry wizards appear. Walking over she had heard her child's speech and started fuming.  
  
Then she got mad.  
  
She placed herself directly in between Percy and Harry, shielding Harry from any spells, but allowing him to see the confrontation.  
  
"Excuse me?" she said in terribly cold voice. "You've come to arrest Harry for saving his life? Saving Arabella Figg's life? Protecting the muggles that live here? Helping me clean up the mess after we waited for the Ministry to arrive? Did you think it would be good to leave the detritus of a magical battle lying about? Should we have left them their memories, so they could pass on what they had witnessed? What exactly was his crime other than doing what must be done?"  
  
Percy paled at the dreadful fury emanating from his mother. But steadfastly he remained true to his chosen duty.  
  
"This has nothing to do with you Mother. Please stand aside or I'll be forced to arrest you as well for interfering with Ministry business."  
  
Mrs. Weasley stared wordlessly at her son. She could not imagine having this confrontation with any of her other children, couldn't quite believe that she was having it with Percy. She had always tried to defend his obsession with the rules. She had always been proud of his dedication to duty. When he had been made Prefect, she knew it was a proud day for him, recognition of his adherence to the rules. As Head Boy he had proudly administered the rules and she was overjoyed for him when he joined the Ministry.  
  
Despite their estrangement over the past year, she knew he was doing what he thought right. She knew that he was trying to abide by the rules, and enforce them as best he knew how. But she was deeply, bitterly disappointed in him.  
  
"You silly, foolish, bureaucrat," she whispered. "It is obvious by the amount of magic still in the air that there was a battle. If you saw the spells that Harry was casting, you know something unusual was going on. Did you come investigate immediately? No. Did you come as soon as it was over? No. You waited until he was casting simple cleaning and repairing spells. And if you had an ounce of brains at that Ministry of yours, you would have known that something unusual was afoot. Where is Dumbledore? Where is your father? He should have been summoned when Harry transfigured the rake. Why didn't you call his office? This is clearly within his jurisdiction.  
  
"No, you're afraid. I understand. These are scary times. And your boss is terrified. No one respects him, his power is almost entirely gone. Except for the power you bureaucrats give him. You are so terrified of losing your positions that you seem to fail to recognize that the very world is at risk. And so you continue to heckle and pester this poor boy that has done nothing but fight evil from the time he was born. Without your vaunted support. With constant attack by the Ministry who is supposed to help keep us all safe.  
  
"You will not arrest Harry. You will not detain Harry. And you certainly will not take his wand. His very life, all of our lives depend on his ability, his magic, his future. I will not stand idly by as you try to destroy that, without knowing what you are doing.  
  
"Stop this foolishness now, Percy."  
  
As she finished her statement Percy and the other Ministry were outraged. She had mocked them, belittled them, and interfered with their mission. They were under orders from the Minister himself, and by Merlin they would complete their mission.  
  
Raising their wands in unison, their arms shot forward. Speaking as one, they all shouted "Stupefy!" directly at Mrs. Weasley's chest, planning on knocking her unconscious for a week or more.  
  
As the beams shot towards her, she gasped in surprise, terrified at what was about to happen, distraught at her child's actions. That much magic wouldn't merely stun her, it could kill her.  
  
The passage of time slowed down, the beams of the spells crept slowly toward her, threatening to send her into oblivion when the brave young boy behind her did the most unexpected thing. With his wiry strength and quick reflexes, he dove in front of Mrs. Weasley and let the beams intersect with him. There was a phenomenally brilliant flash of light. Then equally amazing darkness.  
  
***  
  
Harry slowly emerged from a fog where his eyes were blurred and unable to focus. He realized that he was missing his glasses and somehow was in a bed. As he stirred in the bed, he heard a soft rustle and he heard Ginny's voice speaking quietly.  
  
"Relax Harry. Hold on a moment. Mum, Mum, he's awake."  
  
With a startled exclamation Harry was suddenly grasped in another firm hug from Mrs. Weasley. He wryly thought that she might eventually hit him with a sticking charm to keep him in her embrace. After several moments she let him go, and quietly handed him his glasses. Putting them on, he looked around the room, and recognized it as the room he shared with Ron at 12 Grimmauld Place.  
  
As he tried to sit up again, Mrs. Weasley gave him a helping hand and propped him up with several recently fluffed pillows. As he looked about the room he realized that the entire Weasley family was there, minus Percy of course, along with Remus Lupin and Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"What happened? How'd I get here?" he asked. "The last thing I remember was diving in front of Mrs. Weasley, there was a great flash of light, and now I'm here."  
  
Harry was surprised at the chuckles that greeted his confusion. Looking from face to face, he couldn't understand what was funny.  
  
"Harry, I'll begin at the end, though there is much to discuss, about the other events today" started Professor Dumbledore. "You see, your mother's protection is not just for Dark wizards. Oh no, it is from any spell with hostile effect. When you selflessly dove in front of the oncoming spells, you triggered the protection and the spells were directed back at their owners. Unfortunately, in your haste, you didn't aim particularly well. The flash of light of the spells being rebounded momentarily blinded you as well, for there were many spells being sent in your direction, and you landed quite, ah, badly and knocked yourself out.  
  
"Fortunately I had finished our business at Azkaban and the Ministry, and was able to apparate to your side just as you fell. Seeing as you managed to stun young Percy and his compatriots from the Ministry, I merely sent them back to the Ministry, somewhat unceremoniously I'll admit, and brought you here, to your new home. You simply needed rest, something which you need more of in abundance."  
  
When Dumbledore had mentioned Percy's name the temperature of the room dropped several degrees. Ron had started muttering to himself, Fred and George pounded their fists menacingly in their hands, and Bill and Charlie gave each other knowing, determined looks. Mr. Weasley sighed bitterly and his eyes flashed fire, while Mrs. Weasley simply pretended that she hadn't heard anything. It was Ginny that really scared Harry. The look of inarticulate fury, and sorrow, mixed savagely on her face, and Harry knew that he would do what he could to make Percy regret causing her that much anguish.  
  
Returning his attention to Professor Dumbledore, he saw that his headmaster looked rather tired. There were scorch marks on his robes, and Harry saw a splattering of blood on his knuckles. Slowly looking around the room, Harry realized that Lupin was in a similar state, as were Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George.  
  
"Professor what happened? Why didn't you come? Did Fawkes reach you? What happened to the Aurors? What about Azkaban? And how did the Ministry decide to arrest me?" he demanded.  
  
"Patience, Harry, patience. I will tell you all in good time. Where to begin? Ah, yes, I had learned that Voldemort had planned on freeing Lucius and Peter, and several others of his followers at Azkaban. Not so much out of any loyalty, mind you, but simply because he needs the supporters. So, he attempted to distract my attention, and that of the Ministry, by attacking you again, and hopefully forcing you to perform some magic.  
  
"I'll say he almost was able to do both. But fortunately I was made aware of his plans, and made my own. Those Aurors who are smarter than others at the Ministry were convinced to conduct a security inspection of Azkaban. We have already managed to remove the Dementors from their role as guards, so Kingsley spontaneously decided to conduct a review of the security of the installation. As a precautionary measure he brought a good number of Aurors with him.  
  
"Around the same time that Kingsley arrived at the prison, a party of Deatheaters appeared at your Aunt's home. While they were ostensibly only supposed to gain your attention and force you to panic, they failed to account for your predilection to thwarting their plans. When you made your presence known to them, one of them returned to Voldemort to inform him that you had already cast some spells, and that the Ministry would presumably be pursuing you shortly.  
  
"At that time Voldemort sent most of his followers to attack Azkaban, presuming that it would be poorly defended and that his forces would be able to take over the island easily. He did not count on the Aurors being there. As soon as they arrived, Kingsley made me aware of the situation. I contacted Madam Bones and encouraged her to ignore your indiscretion for the moment and send her law enforcement professionals to Azkaban. Fortunately she complied with my request.  
  
"I accompanied her to support Kingsley and the Aurors, along with Remus, Arthur, William, Charles, Fred, and George and we found ourselves in a full fledged battle. Apparently Voldemort was quite intent on rescuing Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Pettigrew, not realizing that I had the two of them moved to a more secure location that very morning. The Deatheaters fought quite valiantly, and most of them managed to escape, but fortunately they did not release any of the other prisoners."  
  
"It was brilliant, Harry," interrupted Fred. George concurred. "He was amazing," pointing at their former headmaster, "casting dozens of spells, knocking them down with ease. One of them thought to act as if he was stunned, hoping that the headmaster would just step over him. As he did, the death eater sat up and aimed his wand. Dumbledore didn't even glance, he just socked him in the jaw with his fist. It was brilliant!"  
  
Professor Dumbledore let out a small chuckle, his eyes flashing with mirth.  
  
"Thank you boys, but please let me continue. After we stopped the fighting at Azkaban, Madam Bones was made aware of a disturbance at her office. Apparently Minister Fudge was more concerned about your actions than the attempted takeover of Azkaban. He had sent several people forcibly into Madam Bones' office and recorded the numerous spells you cast while defeating your own attack squad of Voldemort's followers.  
  
"Unfortunately, Madam Bones and I arrived just after the party of Ministry officials appeared at your Aunt's home, otherwise we would have intervened. I tried to persuade the Minister to drop all charges, but he refuses to do so."  
  
"Good," spat Harry. "We're having this out once and for all. You know my plans, Professor. I had intended on waiting until the shareholder meeting, but now, let's go to trial. You're still on the Wizengamut, correct?"  
  
Nodding his head, Professor Dumbledore looked gravely at Harry.  
  
"Are you sure Harry? This is very risky, your plan could backfire."  
  
"Professor, if he wants to charge me with the crime of defending my life, then let him. If he wants to truth to come out, that he didn't do anything to prevent Deatheaters from attacking me, that he sent that stupid git to arrest me, that they almost killed Mrs. Weasley in the process, that he is ignoring the battle at Azkaban, well, let's let it all out in the public.  
  
"I can have an attorney and my own witnesses, right? And the media can't be kept out, right? They're invited. Let's make this a big public spectacle. Let Fudge think he's going to win before I pull the carpet out from underneath him."  
  
Seething, Harry bitterly spat out those last words. He was sick of the interference of Fudge's Ministry and knew he would win.  
  
"Fine Harry, we'll proceed as you request. I'll schedule your trial for the end of the week. That should confuse Fudge quite a bit. I'm still planning on conducting those other trials this week, but the Ministry can't interfere at this point."  
  
"Well, I still want to testify, if you need it."  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, it should help us for your trial as well. Now if you'll excuse me I have a few other matters to take care of."  
  
"Wait Professor, I have one more question, erm, actually two. If you knew about the attack on Azkaban, why didn't your respond when Fawkes brought you my message? Or when the protection charm alerted you that I had been attacked?"  
  
"Well, Harry, after our last conversation, and after witnessing your abilities at the Ministry in June, I decided that I could afford to come to your assistance after I had secured the prison. I knew the charm was effective and I took that chance. I'm sorry if you were worried, but I simply had no other choice."  
  
Pleased with Professor Dumbledore's statement, and his faith in Harry, Harry relaxed back into the pillow. "Oh, Professor, one more question. What would have happened if I had grabbed the portkey?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore had turned to leave the room when Harry asked the seemingly innocuous question. He stopped abruptly and spun towards Harry. His eyes flashed fire as he struggled to control the anger that flashed across his face. Very slowly he looked Harry in the eye.  
  
"Excuse me, Harry? What portkey?" he asked with a stillness that immediately made Harry wish he hadn't brought it up.  
  
"The portkey the Deatheater threw at me. It was small and shiny, looked almost like a Snitch, but not quite. I didn't know what it was when he threw it at me and I almost caught it, but thought better of it and hit it back at him. He grabbed it and disappeared. It had to be a portkey, right?"  
  
The calm fury that emanated in waves from the powerful wizard rattled Harry's teeth. The Weasley family wisely stepped back from the angry wizard, giving him as much room as they could possibly give him.  
  
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Harry. Please repeat that to me, and give me every detail you can recall." He spoke with a calmness that was unnatural considering the sparks of anger that skittered across the room.  
  
Harry repeated the events of what had happened, as well as the details that he could recall about the portkey. As he finished, Dumbledore gravely nodded his head and thanked Harry.  
  
"I will need to think about this, I will need to think about this a great deal. I will explain in the fullness of time. But first I must investigate what happened."  
  
"Professor, why are you so upset about this? What makes this so important?" Harry pressed. "You told me I was not going to be kept away from information that was important to me."  
  
With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore looked out the window for several moments before responding. Wearily he looked Harry directly in the eye.  
  
"The leader of that party of Deatheaters is known to you, Harry. It was Professor Snape." 


	6. Here Comes the Judge

Chapter Six - Here Comes the Judge  
  
"What?" asked Harry with tremendous bitterness. His face felt flush with anger and the rage that he had recently been able to control threatened to erupt like a simmering volcano. "I'm sure I misheard you, Professor."  
  
"Unfortunately, Harry, you did not. I do not know what happened, and that certainly wasn't part of our plan. Severus showed up in my office after lunch, explaining his orders. It was a test of his loyalty to Voldemort that he was directed to lead the attack on you. We did not have enough time to tell you about the plans since it was just before Severus left to go to your Aunt's house. This disturbs me greatly." Dumbledore's fury had abated, and he suddenly looked incredibly weary.  
  
Harry felt a momentary pang of sympathy for his headmaster, but his anger at Snape flared back to full force. "He could have trapped me with that portkey. How can we trust him? He's always hated me, he's wanted me 'taken care of' since I arrived at Hogwarts. Snape may have turned, Professor. Snape may have gone back to Voldemort and is now betraying you."  
  
Dumbledore looked sharply up at Harry. "I have my reasons for trusting Professor Snape, Harry. Please let me investigate this before you allow your speculation to run rampant. I know you feel you have no reason to trust Professor Snape, but I do trust him. As I said, I will investigate this and inform you of what I find."  
  
"Alright Professor, but until you have proof that he's innocent, he is not welcome into this house. Not for a meeting of the Order, not for anything. I know he hates me. Maybe Voldemort is twisting his mind over that and he's being controlled. I don't trust him and I never will."  
  
"Never is a long time, Harry. But I understand. Until I get to the bottom of this I will agree to your restrictions." Dumbledore sighed, his resolve again hardening to protect this young wizard.  
  
After Professor Dumbledore quietly left the room, followed by Remus Lupin, Mrs. Weasley promptly returned to Harry's side. Gently brushing his hair away from his forehead she looked deeply into his eyes, and her hand trembled a bit. Offering him a glass of water, she quietly poured a cup full, her hands still trembling.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, are you okay?" Harry asked gingerly. He had only seen her get this upset when she had tried to tackle a boggart and fell victim to its cruelty. Harry was not entirely surprised by what she said when she started talking, but as she did his anger flared back to life.  
  
"You saved my life Harry. I know it. Those stupid Ministry people, and - and, well they almost killed me. How he could ever have turned on me, I'm his mother for Merlin's sake. But the look on his face, it was like he was dead. He wasn't even thinking, just doing what his orders told him to do. I just, he's my son, my baby, and he tried, he tried to..." She faltered a bit before continuing, shaking her head.  
  
"I can't ever thank you enough for doing such a reckless thing, you could have been killed, do you know that? You deliberately jumped in front of those spells to save me. I can never thank you enough."  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said in a small, quiet voice. "I didn't have a choice. Not really. I saw what was happening, and, erm, well I couldn't let them do that to you. You're like a mother to me," Harry's eyes watered just a bit and his voice broke.  
  
Clearing his throat, he continued. "You're like a mother to me and I couldn't let that happen. I'd do it again if necessary. For any of you."  
  
Tears were again flowing in the eyes of the entire Weasley family, and Harry found himself swarmed in a mass hug once more. His eyes flashed a bit, however, when he heard Fred and George exchange dark comments about how they were planning on dealing with their 'other' brother.  
  
"No," he said firmly. "I don't want you to do anything." His eyes took in Bill, Charlie, and Ron as well. "I know he's your brother," looking at Mr. Weasley he gulped. "And your son. But this is my battle. Please. Fudge's Ministry has interfered too much, they've gone too far. I think I know how to help save Percy, or at least stop him from doing more harm. I think I can make him realize what he's done. But you have to let me handle it. If my plan doesn't work, you can do something after that, but give me until my trial. If I haven't solved the problem at the conclusion of my trial, then you can do something. Okay?"  
  
Seeing them slowly nod their head in agreement, Harry was satisfied until he looked into Ginny's eyes. She was not convinced, and Harry could tell.  
  
"Please Ginny, trust me. I want to stop this more than you do. And I have to make Percy see what he's done, what he's doing, the path he's headed down if he doesn't turn around."  
  
Under his relentless stare Ginny faltered, her anger dimming. But Harry was again impressed by the willful determination this tiny witch controlled. "Fine Harry. But if you don't fix him, I will."  
  
Each of the Weasley men stepped back a bit at the venom in Ginny's voice. All knew not to cross her when she was this angry. Even Mrs. Weasley seemed slightly taken aback at her daughter's voice, but Harry also saw a flash of immense pride mingled in there as well. He smiled at the slight witch in front of him and nodded his head solemnly.  
  
"Well, if you don't mind then, I'd like to get some more sleep. Tomorrow's a big day, convicting Malfoy and all." Harry yawned, and the Weasley's took his not so subtle hint. As they all wished him a good night, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny quickly kissed him on the cheek, causing his face to turn scarlet. Giggling, they walked out arm in arm and shut the door on Harry and Ron.  
  
***  
  
"Wicked Harry, bloody wicked. What a day! I can't believe everything you went through today, attacked by Deatheaters, then Percy, and now we're here in your house. It's unbelievable. So, tell me about your plan? What are you going to do? How'd you get Dumbledore to agree?"  
  
"Not a chance Weasley," Harry said sternly. "The only thing we're going to talk about tonight before I go to sleep is the young lady, Hermione Granger. You'll find out about my plans eventually, but right now I want to know what's going on between my two best friends. I want to know what your plans are. And I should warn you, I'm feeling slightly protective right now."  
  
Harry was tremendously pleased to see the multiple shades of red that flashed across Ron's face. His ears were one shade of pink, his cheeks a muted red, his neck had four different shades that Harry could see, and he was sure if he had a better light that there would be more shades visible. Snickering Harry watched Ron's mouth open and close again nervously as if he didn't know where to start.  
  
"Tell me when you realized you had feelings for her," Harry offered diplomatically.  
  
"First year, after we saved her from the troll," Ron said automatically, without thinking. "I guess. I just didn't realize it then. It took some time for me to figure it out, you know? I think consciously that I knew after second year, after she'd been petrified. Everything was empty while she was gone. I mean, we had so much to deal with, but still, every day it was empty without her.  
  
"But I was embarrassed and tried to hide it. So I pretended myself I wasn't falling for her. I mean remember third year, how hectic everything was and she was so busy with all those classes, it was easy to ignore it, mostly. And fourth year, well, with the Championship, and that stupid dance and Vicky, well, then I was just mad at her about the whole thing, but still kidding myself that it was something else.  
  
"I don't think that I finally realized it, I mean really KNEW it, until last year. Last summer actually. When we were here and our prefect badges came.  
  
"She immediately assumed that it was yours, as did most everyone, but it HURT when she thought it was yours. I think I realized that I was jealous when she was excited for YOU. I mean, she was so thrilled for you, when she thought it was yours, and I wasn't upset with you, because I thought it would have been yours too, but I was upset that she didn't automatically think it was mine. Like I wasn't good enough for it.  
  
"Then I realized how stupid I was being. And it made me think. Why was I upset? Because she thought that Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, defeated Voldemort, saved the Stone, killed the basilisk, saved Sirius, school champion, and so on, was the prefect? Of course you should have been Prefect. And so I thought to myself 'YOU didn't even think you'd get it, why are you upset with Hermione for agreeing with you?' and it made me realize that I WANTED her to think I deserved it.  
  
"That's where it gets weird Harry. Real weird. So I'm sitting there, thinking to myself 'I want Hermione to be proud of me, like she is of Harry.' And I'm thinking 'what the heck is that all about' and I get very confused.  
  
"But it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. Suddenly, I start thinking about everything, my obsession with Krum, our bickering, how much she means to me. How I can't stop looking at her when we're in the room together. How I listen to everything she says, but pretend not to most of the time, mostly so she has to repeat it. How I pick fights with her just to see her react and get flustered." He grinned.  
  
"When did you realize all this Ron?" Harry asked, finding himself strangely pleased with his friend.  
  
"I don't know, over time. I mean, I had the first lightbulb that night, when I got my badge, and then I started thinking about it. I decided I was going to say something to her the first night of school, but then I chickened out when she could only talk about Umbridge.  
  
"And then things just got so tense. Erm, well, you know. Last year wasn't particularly conducive to a romance. Yeah, we had time alone but we spent most of it worrying about you. And then, like I said, I chickened out. What would I do if she said no, or laughed at me? I didn't know what Krum's story was, if they were more serious or whatever. So I kept quiet."  
  
"So what changed?" Harry prodded  
  
"The Ministry. Don't look at me like that, I'm not saying it was a romantic evening, but well, with everything that happened, I started to worry. It hit home how dangerous everything was, how much risk we were at, all the time. When we were in the room with the prophecies, my first instinct was to protect her Harry. I wanted to keep her safe more than anything. As we fought with the Deatheaters, well, I just worried about her so much. What if something happened and she never knew? I had to tell her. I had to.  
  
"When I woke up back at Hogwarts, when we were in the infirmary, at first I was scared. Those brains messed me up pretty good. And that cut on Hermione, it was terrifying. But Madam Pomfrey fixed us up, like she always does. And we were lying there, recovering and we talked. We talked about you, how angry you were, how hurt you were, and how worried we were about you. We talked about Ginny and Neville and Luna. We talked about Sirius, about how much we missed him. And finally I had my chance, I couldn't stop myself, it just came out."  
  
***  
  
Ron's eyes glazed over slightly as he relived that precious memory for Harry. Lying in bed in the hospital wing, their beds next to each other, it was late at night. The lights were dimmed down very low and they were alone. Ginny had been released and Madam Pomfrey was asleep, but they were still talking.  
  
"Hermione, there's something else I'm glad about," Ron said, haltingly.  
  
"What Ron?" Hermione asked softly.  
  
"I'm glad you're okay, now. I mean, I'm glad Madam Pomfrey was able to heal you."  
  
"Me too Ron, I'm glad we're both better."  
  
"No, Herms, it's more than that. I mean, yeah, I'm glad we're okay. But, erm, I mean, well, I'mreallygladyou'rebetterandIwasworriedaboutyou." He finished incredibly quickly.  
  
"What Ron? I didn't catch that." If Ron had been able to look at Hermione's eyes he would have seen them sparkle mischievously, but his own eyes were planted firmly at the sheets wrapped up around his chest. With a pained expression he took a deep breath and looked across at his best friend.  
  
"What I mean," he started slowly. "What I mean is that I'm particularly glad that you are okay. I don't know what I'd do without you Herms, if you got hurt or anything. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you at the Ministry, and I won't ever let you down again. Ever. You mean too much to me, and I can't, I can't, erm, I can't let you get hurt. You're my best friend, you and Harry. But it's more with you, you're, well, you're my everything."  
  
Blushing furiously he dropped his head to his chest, worried that he had ruined his friendship with this lovely, brilliant, amazing witch.  
  
"Ronald Weasley, that takes a lot of nerve," Hermione started. Ron winced and tried to sink lower into his bed.  
  
"You have the audacity to sit there and tell me such things-"  
  
Ron interrupted her before she finished. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
"I wasn't finished Ronald," Hermione said, eyes flashing dangerously. Ron quailed and stopped talking.  
  
"You have the audacity to sit there and tell me such romantic things." Ron's heart lurched into his throat as she continued. "When I can't do anything about it because I'm stuck here in this dreadful bed with this stupid injury. Of all the inopportune times for you to figure this out, it has to be now."  
  
Ron's face was positively glowing and his smile reached across the room. Trembling slightly he crawled out of his bed and walked over to Hermione's. Bending down over her, he kissed her gently on her forehead. As he made to pull back he was startled when her hands reached out and grabbed the collar of his bed clothes, pulling his face towards hers. She firmly kissed him on the lips and didn't let go for several long moments.  
  
Both of them were blushing furiously when she finally released him. "Much better. That first kiss, honestly, I won't take you seriously if you don't do better next time. Now get back to bed before you get in trouble. You're seriously not strong enough to be out in the first place. We can talk more about this tomorrow." Grinning she shooed him off to his bed and he numbly obeyed.  
  
Climbing back into his bed, his heart pounding in his ears, he looked across to the wonderful witch he had fallen for. "G'night Herms."  
  
"Good night Ron, pleasant dreams," she replied and swished her wand, extinguishing all the lights.  
  
***  
  
Harry was smiling. He was incredibly happy for the two of them and knew that Ron was worried about his reaction.  
  
"That's just brilliant Ron, brilliant. I glad it finally happened for you two. Just do me a favor and don't screw this up. I can't stand the thought of refereeing the two of you in a breakup. We both know Hermione'd win anyway."  
  
"Don't worry, mate. I won't screw this up, it's just absolutely perfect. Not that you have to tell her what I said though, have to leave her guessing a little you know."  
  
Harry didn't, at least not really, but decided not to make an issue of it. He had known for years that Ron and Hermione were destined for each other, but he also knew that he didn't want a relationship like that. Harry knew, somehow, that despite their newfound romance that the bickering between his best friends wasn't going to change at all. In fact, he fretted, it was likely to get worse. 'Well, if I can fight off Deatheaters, I can deal with the romance between my best friends,' he thought to himself.  
  
"Good," he said out loud. "But just do me this favor okay? I love Hermione like a sister and if you ever hurt her, well, just imagine what you'd do to some bloke that tried to hurt Ginny. And then multiply that by ten. That's where I'll start."  
  
Ron could tell that Harry was not kidding, and nodded his head. "No worries mate, this is the real deal."  
  
Exhausted Harry decided that he'd had enough information to tease Ron for a few days and decided to call it a night. Quickly changing and climbing into bed, Harry started grinning again.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Yes, Harry."  
  
"Good night Ron. Pleasant dreams."  
  
***  
  
The next morning Harry woke up with the rising sun. Realizing that he was not going to sleep any more he slowly got out of bed and walked over to look out the window. It promised to be a grey day as storm clouds had gathered during the night and soaked the city early in the morning. Harry stretched and quietly walked out of the room, making his way downstairs. As he crept silently past the portrait of Sirius' mother, not wishing to disturb her, he looked into the sitting room and saw movement in one of the portraits.  
  
Crossing the room to inspect, Harry was not surprised when he saw the now familiar face of Phineas Nigellus appear in the frame.  
  
"About time you woke up, young Harry. We have much to discuss this morning."  
  
Sighing, Harry looked at the former headmaster. Harry was surprised by what he saw. Normally portraits always look the same, the original paint job lasting for centuries. But Phineas looked much more worn than Harry remembered. The portrait was obviously upset and seemed weary.  
  
"Okay, Phineas, what do you want."  
  
"Not a very gracious morning person, are you Harry? Well, I can understand that I suppose.  
  
"I've been thinking about our last conversation, about my obligation to you, Harry. And to Dumbledore and Hogwarts. I have also listened to Dumbledore discuss your plans. Very crafty, very convoluted. You would have made a good Slytherin."  
  
"I don't particularly relish the though of being insulted so early in the morning, Phineas, so knock it off." Harry was quickly tiring of this conversation.  
  
"Patience, my dear boy. Patience is an important attribute for you to learn. But let me continue. I am aware of your impending legal battles. Your trial provides you with an opportunity, one you are smart to have taken. But I think I can offer you a suggestion that even Dumbledore may have forgotten exists. He may not realize that there are legal precedents that, while unused for centuries, remain binding."  
  
"Why not inform him? He leads the Wizengamot, he should know enough to make it happen, whatever you are suggesting."  
  
"No, no, my young friend, it can not come from Dumbledore. He will have to play the neutral party. It must come from you. It will be perfect timing and Dumbledore will be able to act upon it very quickly. And my understanding is that he believes the rest of the court will vote with him on all matters, especially with Fudge's behavior of late."  
  
The continued to discuss Harry's strategy, Phineas offering a few more refinements and precise language that Harry would need once his trial started.  
  
As their conversation ended, they were interrupted by a loud yelp of distress that Harry was convinced sounded like Ron. Rushing out to the entry, he saw the twins doubled over in laughter. Ron emerged from the bedroom he shared with Harry, glowing an odd shade of blue. He looked as if he had been dipped in a bucket of blue paint. Shaking his fists at the twins he started chasing after them, causing them to flee down the stairs. Unfortunately Ron forgot that his brothers could conduct magic while he was still at a disadvantage. As they hit the landing they turned and cast two quick spells in his direction. The first silencing him, so he didn't disturb the portrait of Sirius' mother with his yelling, and the second a well placed sticking charm the planted him firmly on the wall. The glow from his skin sheathed the entryway in a bizarrely pleasant blue glow.  
  
Seemingly by accident the twins bumped in to Harry, who was having a very difficult time hiding his amusement. They tried to look as innocent as possible and pointedly refused to look back at their younger brother who was waving wildly in distress.  
  
"Morning, Mr. Potter. What brings you down here so early?" asked George.  
  
"We just happened to bump into your roommate and he seems a bit distressed," said Fred.  
  
Grinning broadly, the twins looked politely at Harry. He smiled back at them.  
  
"Erm, yes, he seems a little down, a little blue you might say," he replied as casually as he could muster. "It seems that he has found himself with some time on his hands though, maybe that will cheer him up?"  
  
"Quite right. Let's leave him in peace and maybe that will clear things up." George tried to contain the burst of laughter that was welling and dashed into the kitchen. Harry and Fred followed suit and the three of them were doubled over laughing for several minutes. When their laughter finally subsided, Harry collapsed into a chair and propped his head in his hands, arms resting on the table.  
  
"So, what was that?" Harry asked.  
  
"Another of our inventions," replied George. "We call it the Chromatic Ink Bomb. You put a few drops in anything the person drinks and a few minutes later they turn a bright glowing color. It varies from person to person, and you never get the same exact color. For ickle Ronniekins we just dropped a few drops in his mouth while he was snoring. It has the same effect."  
  
"It was a blast to research Harry," said Fred. "We each tried it three times. I was red, green, and a weird tannish color. George got puce, orange, and a fluorescent black. It's terribly wicked. We figure folks will have a lot of fun with them, turning each other different colors."  
  
"How long does it last?" Harry asked, a little worried for his friend.  
  
"That's the beauty of it, Harry," Fred said. "It only lasts until the person goes to the bathroom. We're trying to make it last a little longer for the older crowd, you know, for bars and parties and stuff. But this version is marketable now."  
  
Laughing, Harry agreed that it would be a hit. He then reminded the twins that their mother might not approve of Ron's condition since they needed to leave soon for the Malfoy trial. They grudgingly agreed and went out to let Ron down. As they walked out of the kitchen, Remus walked in.  
  
"Morning Harry," he said, grabbing Harry's shoulders with a quick squeeze. "Want some coffee?" As he said this, Remus shot a few spells at the stove and the coffeepot suddenly gurgled into action. With the aroma of coffee filling the room, Harry suddenly realized that he was famished. He hadn't eaten since lunch the day before with Mr. Smith and he was starving.  
  
"No thanks, Remus, I actually just need something to eat. I haven't had a bite in a long time and I'm dying of hunger."  
  
Remus gave him a rueful grin. "We should wait for Molly then, my cooking skills leave a lot to be desired. I remember one time I made breakfast for Sirius and your father, just after we graduated. Sirius was fine, but James was sick for a week. Sensitive stomach I guess. They didn't let me forget that for months, it was terrible. But your Dad got even, he always did. He slipped a potion into my butterbeer and it made going to the bathroom very uncomfortable for the next three days, until Lily took pity on me and made the remedy."  
  
Harry grinned at his favorite former professor and laughed at the thought of his dad engaged in a prank war with his friends. Fortunately Mrs. Weasley was finally up as well and she walked into the kitchen. Looking over at her, Harry saw that her eyes were dancing and she was trying, with great difficulty, not to laugh.  
  
"Morning Mrs. Weasley," he called. "How are you feeling today?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley giggled a little before settling down and looked over at Harry and Remus.  
  
"Good morning Harry, Remus. I'm feeling much better. And you? Slept well, I hope? You have a long day ahead of you, several actually. And we need to feed you! That Aunt of yours must have been starving you. Well, give me a few minutes and we'll get you fed."  
  
Mrs. Weasley waved her wand around the kitchen and pans started flying and eggs and bacon soon found themselves sizzling on the stove. Humming happily she flicked her wand at a loaf of bread that soon found itself being sliced, toasted, and buttered. As the smells of a hearty breakfast wafted out the doors, Harry heard a small commotion as Ron and his brothers raced down the stairs and burst into the kitchen. Moments later Ginny followed in a much more dignified manner, though she was smiling joyfully at Ron who had been returned to his normal color without a trace of blue remaining on his skin or hair.  
  
As Mrs. Weasley served everyone up a mountain of eggs and bacon, Harry noticed that she couldn't quite bring herself to look at Ron. Harry glanced around and saw that Remus was also smiling, which was unusual since he wasn't really a morning person, and was also avoiding looking at Ron.  
  
Chuckling to himself he turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Weasley, it's delicious. But how did you know that I wanted eggs? It's like you came up with that out of the blue."  
  
The kitchen exploded with laughter as Ron's face turned several shades of red. He looked over at Harry with rueful anger on his face.  
  
"Very funny, mate," he said. "They'll get theirs. I'm not sure, but somehow I'll manage to get them back."  
  
He then made a great show of turning his back on everyone at the table, which was quite difficult because he was also intent on shoveling as much food in his mouth as possible at the same time. Eventually the laughter died down and Harry calmly resumed eating.  
  
As they finished their meals, Harry asked where Mr. Weasley was.  
  
"He had to go to Azkaban after he was sure you were okay, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said.  
  
"After the battle there several Aurors and guards needed medical treatment and Arthur volunteered to help out by relieving them. Plus Dumbledore wanted as many Order members there as well to make sure nothing happened. He'll meet us at the trial this morning, and it looks like we need to get moving if we want to be there on time. We have to take the muggle Underground you know. Everybody report back down here in ten minutes."  
  
"Mum, we can drive you and we don't need to leave for another twenty minutes then," volunteered George.  
  
Simultaneously Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley said "We'll take the Underground."  
  
Fred and George smirked.  
  
"Wimps. Be that way."  
  
Grateful for his escape of their car, Harry rushed upstairs to change. He pulled on some of his new clothing and over that put on his formal school robes. Deciding that he looked presentable enough, he forced Ron to stop looking in the mirror and walked down stairs.  
  
"I know Hermione will be there, Ron," he teased. "But she'll be fine with your hair the way it is. Honestly."  
  
As Ron blushed, Harry snorted with laughter. "You're making this too easy mate. Hopefully Hermione will be more of a challenge."  
  
Ron's blush deepened.  
  
As ten minutes had almost passed, Mrs. Weasley came marching down the stairs with Ginny and the twins in tow. As a group they marched out to the streets, with Remus following them from a discreet distance.  
  
Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Ministry and made their way down to the same courtroom that Harry had been in just under a year ago for his first trial. Hermione was waiting outside the entrance with Tonks, and Ron rushed up to give her a quick hug. Grabbing her hand, Ron's ears turned bright pink but his eyes never left Hermione's face.  
  
Harry's stomach clenched as they made their way through the crowd and pushed his way to the door. As they entered the massive courtroom and found seats Harry whirled around as a familiar voice spoke with the deepest loathing.  
  
"Potter. Figures you are here with the Mudblood and the charity case. Gloating are you? Well, don't be too sure, my Father will get off, you watch." Draco Malfoy looked at the trio with utter contempt.  
  
"Careful Malfoy or you'll get tossed in Azkaban as well. I know it's just a matter of time before you become a Deatheater and I'll send you to rot there with your father as well. Unless I kill you first." Harry spoke with a calmness that even he didn't know where it came from. Malfoy's eyes tightened in anger as he reached for his wand.  
  
"Careful, Malfoy, when some of your ilk crossed me yesterday I broke one man's spine, impaled another in the arse, destroyed another's mind with the Cruciatus, stunned a final one for hours, and made two run away in fear. You think I'm worried about pathetic you?  
  
"And it's also not a good idea to perform underage magic right in front of the Ministry. Even Fudge would have to punish you this time. Not that it matters, though. Because if you so much as think of casting a spell in my direction, or theirs," Harry said indicating Hermione and the Weasley family, "I'll kill you where you stand.  
  
"Now go back to your miserable mother and leave us the hell alone."  
  
Harry reached out and forcefully pushed Malfoy away from them. Stunned, Malfoy fumed at him. "You'll pay, Potter. Just like your godfather, you'll pay." Draco stormed away and walked to the opposite side of the circular room and rejoined his mother.  
  
Harry moved to sit back down, but noticed the stunned silence from the Weasley's. Hermione, though, was glaring dangerously at him.  
  
"What did you mean by that? What happened yesterday Harry? I only saw you two days ago at your birthday and now you've gone on some rampage?" Harry could tell she wasn't angry with him, just concerned about the impact of his actions. He looked calmly at her and paused before figuring out how to tell her what had happened in a short amount of time. Ron beat him to it.  
  
"We don't have time, Herms, to tell you the whole story, so sit back down" he said calmly and directly. Harry was stunned when Hermione simply sat down to listen to Ron. Maybe there were some definite benefits to their new relationship for Harry.  
  
"Here's the short version. Harry was attacked by six Deatheaters at his Aunt's house. As he said, two fled, he broke one guy's spine, impaled another in the arse, one tried to curse him, but it rebounded and melted his brain, and the last one he stunned before doing more damage to him. So two fled, four were caught by Harry. He's got a trial at the end of the week, but he and Dumbledore think it's a good thing. Now shush, here comes Dumbledore."  
  
Harry was positive this relationship was going to be beneficial to him when Hermione did exactly as ordered. She didn't pepper him with questions, merely sat back in her chair and watched as Dumbledore entered the chamber. She did however, cast a few fleeting glances in Harry's direction.  
  
"Wizards and Witches. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I call this session to order. Bring forth the accused, Lucius Malfoy."  
  
With a slight gesture, the lights around the room where the public was sitting dimmed and the lights at the center glowed brighter. A solitary chair sat in the center, and as Dumbledore made another gesture, two doors opened and Lucius Malfoy walked proudly in followed by two hulking Aurors, his head held high, an arrogant smile on his face.  
  
Contemptuously Malfoy sat down and glared up at Dumbledore.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, you stand accused using the Unforgivable Curses, the attempted murder of Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Virginia Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, and trespass at the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore looked down at Malfoy and continued. "How do you plead?"  
  
"Not Guilty."  
  
***  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Thanks for the reviews! Love to hear you are enjoying the story. Keep 'em coming.  
  
Shadowbandit: I tried to make it clear, but maybe didn't do as well as I thought. Figg was being held by the burly wizard. Harry stunned him. The leader (who we find out later is Snape) is the taller wizard. If I get around to revising this, I'll try to make it clearer.  
  
As for my concept of the protection spell, I believe it works against all offensive magic, but only while Harry is staying with his Aunt over the summer. Once he crosses through the barrier at Platform 9 and 3/4, well, just wait and see. I think that stays within with canon since I don't recall any offensive spells cast at him in the summer, but please let me know the error of my ways. I only recall the Dementors, and their aura and Kiss aren't spells per se, but part of their nature. Plus, I just really wanted to hit Percy with something, he's a smelly git. 


	7. May it Please the Court

Author's note: Oops. Didn't mean to leave out poor Neville from the list. I've updated that chapter to put his name where it belongs. My apologies to Neville fans everywhere.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Seven - May it Please the Court  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head at Malfoy and then motioned to Madam Bones.  
  
"Madam Bones, you may begin."  
  
"I call as my first witness Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived."  
  
Startled at being called that, as if it were part of his official title or his full name, Harry was surprised that he was the first witness.  
  
Moving down towards the center of the chamber, Harry looked up at Dumbledore who gave him a sly wink.  
  
When he stepped down on to the same level that Lucius sat, Dumbledore waved his wand and a comfortable chair appeared. Taking this as a suggestion, Harry sat.  
  
Madam Bones walked down to him and gave him a glass with liquid in it.  
  
"Mr. Potter, there is Veritaserum in this glass, enough to compel truthfulness for the next two hours. Do you consent to taking this?" When she saw his hesitation she smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, the questions you are asked will be strictly relevant to this trial. The Chief Warlock will not allow spurious lines of questioning."  
  
Reassured, Harry quickly gulped down the potion. He didn't feel anything different, but assumed it worked. Madam Bones immediately started questioning him.  
  
"Please state your name for the record."  
  
"Harry James Potter."  
  
"And your address?" Harry hesitated for a moment, panic setting in. He was about to reveal the address of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix! Fortunately Dumbledore was prepared.  
  
"Madam Bones meant, of course, your permanent address, Mr. Potter," he said with a straight face and a knowing look.  
  
Relieve, Harry flashed him a smile. "Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."  
  
"Can you identify that man," Madam Bones asked, pointing to Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Yes, he's Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort's Deatheaters." When Harry said the dreaded name, most of the audience in the courtroom gasped in shock. Lucius Malfoy simply sneered at him.  
  
"Objection!" It was a voice Harry recognized as belonging to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "That's simply speculation. Just because this deranged boy believes it to be true does not make it true."  
  
Dumbledore gave Fudge a withering look, but nodded his head. "Sustained. It has not yet been proven conclusively that Mr. Malfoy is indeed a Deatheater. Please continue Madam Bones."  
  
"Thank you. Now Harry, please relate to the Court the events of the final night of the TriWizard Championship."  
  
Harry found himself talking in a calm, dispassionate voice as he explained the events of that night. He described the maze and the events that took place there. He related the conversation between himself and Cedric about who should take the Cup. He then described how he found himself in the graveyard and Cedric's death at the hands of Peter Pettigrew.  
  
He continued by describing the resurrection of Voldemort and his confrontation with the Dark Lord. Again the audience gasped at the mention of that name, but Harry ignored the interruption.  
  
Madam Bones asked him to continue.  
  
He explained how he recognized the Deatheaters that appeared at the graveyard. How Voldemort had called Lucius by name and Lucius had begged for forgiveness. Madam Bones interrupted him at that point.  
  
"You are sure that it was Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes, Voldemort called him by name, and Lucius responded to it. Plus I recognized his voice and I saw his eyes. I'm positive it was him."  
  
Madam Bones paused and looked up at Minister Fudge, anticipating on objection. None came.  
  
"Very well, please continue."  
  
Harry continued to describe the duel between himself and Voldemort, and how Lucius had tried to lead the Deatheaters in attacking him. He finished with a short explanation of how he returned to Hogwarts before Madam Bones stopped him from going further.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. Now I'd like you to describe the events of your visit to the Ministry last year."  
  
Unsure of where to start, Harry described the vision he had seen of Sirius being held at the Ministry. How he had envisioned Sirius being tortured by Voldemort.  
  
"So you admit that Sirius Black was with You-Know-Who. How do we know they weren't in league with each other?" Minister Fudge spoke with deep contempt and anger at the thought that Sirius had evaded the Ministry for so long.  
  
"I admit no such thing Minister," Harry said with equal contempt. "It was a vision, one that proved to be false. And Sirius wasn't in league with Voldemort, as you should have figured out since Peter Pettigrew is very obviously not dead since he is in your custody awaiting trial. Sirius was innocent."  
  
"Harry," interrupted Madam Bones. "Please continue with your testimony."  
  
Sighing, Harry explained his attempt to verify where Sirius was by breaking in to Umbridge's office. As he described the events that happened there, Madam Bones interrupted again.  
  
"You mean to tell me that she was going to use the Cruciatus on you? And that only the interruption of Ms. Granger prevented that?"  
  
"Erm, I guess. Yeah."  
  
"This is outrageous!" Fudge was spluttering. "This is the unfounded accusation of a deranged boy. This is irrelevant and immaterial. I demand it be stricken from the record."  
  
Dumbledore looked calmly at the enraged Minister. "I find it odd the things you are objecting to Cornelius, but you are right, this is not relevant to this matter. However, it will not be stricken from the record as I am sure that this will need to be investigated further.  
  
"Madam Bones, perhaps we could proceed to the moment that Mr. Potter arrived at the Ministry? I think that will be more relevant."  
  
Nodding her head, she motioned to Harry to continue.  
  
Harry described his arrival at the vacant Ministry, how the guard was missing, and how he and his friends made their way down to the Department of Mysteries. He explained the search for the room in his vision, and how they eventually found their way there.  
  
As he described the confrontation with Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the other Deatheaters over the prophecy, he heard a slight murmuring from the audience. Continuing with his story, he described the battle that ensued, up to the point where Dumbledore had arrived. Tears welled up when he explained how Sirius had died. Madam Bones allowed him to compose himself before she continued.  
  
"I think that's enough, Mr. Potter," she said kindly. "We all know the rest of the story you needn't continue." Harry realized that she was protecting him, keeping his own paltry use of the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix from becoming known.  
  
"We know," she said, "that you and Voldemort had a confrontation before Albus intervened and chased Voldemort off."  
  
When the audience gasped again Madam Bones lost her composure.  
  
"Seriously people, enough. We all know his name and it's ridiculous to persist with such silly fear. He's simply a powerful Dark wizard, no more, no less. I don't see the need to pretend like his name alone has power."  
  
Turning back to Harry, she paused, trying to determine if she had any more questions for Harry. Realizing that she had all of the information she needed, she turned to Lucius.  
  
"I'm satisfied with his testimony. Your witness," she said, nodding to Lucius.  
  
With a greasy smile, Lucius stood up and crossed over to Harry.  
  
"I have just two simple questions for Mr. Potter. One, were you in my presence before I apparated to the graveyard on the night of the championship?"  
  
Harry looked at the man he loathed with tremendous force. "No," he said angrily. "Of course not, I was at the graveyard with your boss. You weren't summoned until after he had been restored to a body."  
  
"Excellent. Two, were you in my presence prior to my arrival at the Ministry last summer on the night in question?"  
  
Again Harry looked at the man with loathing. Harry knew where Lucius was going with this.  
  
"No, I was busy defending myself from the hag Umbridge." Harry was pleased to see Fudge's face contort in anger at that statement, but he said nothing.  
  
"Perfect. Thank you Mr. Potter. No further questions."  
  
Seething, Harry stood up and stomped angrily to his seat with the Weasley's. Looking across the room he saw Draco and his mother smiling exultantly, as if they had won a huge victory. Scowling at them, Harry slumped into his chair, oblivious to the encouragement of his friends.  
  
Madam Bones continued with several witnesses, including Aurors, some Ministry officials from her office, and finally Moody, Remus, and Tonks. Each of them added additional information to support Harry's statement and proving conclusively, in Harry's eyes, that Lucius Malfoy was a Deatheater and active in Voldemort's campaign to take over the world.  
  
Lucius asked each witness the same questions that he had asked Harry. Were they in his presence immediately prior to any attack that he participated in? Did they witness his interaction with other Deatheaters prior to any incident? When each witness confirmed that they had not, Lucius' grin widened.  
  
Finally, Madam Bones rested her case. Dumbledore decided to break for lunch and called for a recess.  
  
Fuming, Harry stormily marched out of the courtroom and found his way back up to the entrance level. Exiting the Ministry to the outside street, he looked around for a place to eat and pour over his thoughts, desperately worried that Lucius would manage to get off.  
  
As he felt two hands reached out to grab his shoulder, Harry whirled around, his hand diving in to his pocket. He stared abashedly at Ginny and Hermione who had hurriedly followed after him and just now caught up with him.  
  
"Harry, Mum wants us to go back to the Burrow for lunch," said Ginny. "She says it's easier to Floo there and back from the Ministry as opposed to going to your place. Plus, we're amongst Muggles out here and we're not really dressed for it." Pointing to their robes and the curious looks they were getting from some of the Muggles walking by them, Harry shook his head.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I was just so frustrated about Lucius, I wanted to be get out of there." Gritting his teeth, he shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, let's go."  
  
Climbing back into the telephone booth, they punched in the number and sank back down to the Ministry. Mrs. Weasley was standing there, wringing her hands with worry. Seeing Harry and the girls return, she reached out to him and grabbed his arm.  
  
"Harry, you have to control that temper of yours. Everything will be alright. Dumbledore knew this was a possibility, and he's prepared for it. Now, let's go home for lunch."  
  
Marching her family over to the fireplaces, she picked up the pot of Floo powder and watched as each person grabbed a handful and threw it into the fireplace. As the group disappeared one by one, Harry watched, still trying to figure out how Dumbledore would solve this. As his turn arrived, he too grabbed a handful and threw it into the fireplace. Shouting "The Burrow!" he jumped into the green flames and was whisked away.  
  
***  
  
Coughing and spluttering as he emerged from the fireplace, he was helped to his feet by Ron and Hermione.  
  
"We need to talk Harry," she whispered. "Let's go upstairs while Mrs. Weasley prepares lunch."  
  
Disappearing before Mrs. Weasley emerged from the fireplace, the trio marched upstairs to Ron's room. Entering the familiar place, Harry was stunned to see that it was much neater than he had ever seen it. Apparently Ron had taken some effort to clean it. Immediately understanding Ron's motivation, Harry rolled his eyes and flopped down on the floor.  
  
"Ron, you certainly didn't need to clean this mess up for me," he teased. "What gives?"  
  
Smiling as Ron's face turned red, Harry glanced over at Hermione. She was unconcernedly settling herself down on the floor, across from Harry, though Harry thought he saw a fleeting grin pass quickly on her face. Harry was pleased that he would now have a challenge, since Ron was so easy to fluster, and tried to figure out how to make her blush.  
  
"Honestly Harry," she said impatiently. "Does it really matter why Ron cleaned up his room? There are other things more important to discuss."  
  
The door swung open at that point and Ginny marched in, her eyes spitting fire. "Like why you didn't include me in this little chat?" she asked coolly.  
  
"No Ginny," Hermione said with dignity. "I actually thought you'd already be up here waiting. I assumed you'd be along shortly."  
  
Ginny looked suspiciously at the trio for a moment, and realized she had nothing to work with. She sat down with a thud and intently looked at Harry.  
  
"Fine then, let's continue. Harry, what trick does Dumbledore have up his sleeve?"  
  
"I honestly don't know. Is there a way to determine if a person was under the Imperius? I mean, that's obviously where Lucius is going with this. It's how he got off last time."  
  
"Well," started Hermione. "I should think that Veritaserum would work, but he has to consent to taking it. I wouldn't think that he would do so, since he'd have to tell the truth. Unless he could overcome that? I just don't know. I wish we were at school and we could-"  
  
"Go to the library," said Ron, Harry, and Ginny in unison, finishing the sentence for her with smiles.  
  
"I guess we have to assume that he can overcome the Veritaserum and he'll lie about being a Deatheater. But wouldn't Dumbledore have planned for that?"  
  
"I think you'll find that Dumbledore is prepared for this contingency," said Mrs. Weasley from the doorway. Her eyes flashed at the surprised looks at the children in front of her. "You don't need to worry about it, just wait until we return and it will be clear.  
  
"Now," she said firmly. "Lunch. Downstairs, march."  
  
Shaking their heads ruefully, the four of them quickly got up and raced down the stairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a mountain of sandwiches of all kinds and there were several pitchers of pumpkin juice and butterbeer placed randomly around the table.  
  
Quickly sitting down and passing the sandwiches around, everyone dug in to the meal, anxious to get back to the Ministry for the rest of the trial.  
  
***  
  
When they returned to the courtroom, Harry noticed that security had increased since the morning. Looking over at several of the Aurors, Harry saw that several were still sporting injuries from the raid on Azkaban prison. Grimly shaking his head, he sat back in his chair as Professor Dumbledore entered the courtroom.  
  
Nodding to Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore resumed the session of the Wizengamot. "Mr. Malfoy, you may proceed with your defense."  
  
Lucius grandly stood up, straightening his robes with panache, and looked at the members of the high court.  
  
"May it please the Court, my defense is simple, though unfortunate and highly embarrassing. I will concede that Madam Bones laid out an excellent case. Her accusations were entirely accurate. I was summoned to You-Know- Who's side on that dreadful night when poor Cedric Diggory lost his life. I was also present this past June in the Department of Mysteries and participated in the assault of the Wizarding world's hero, Mr. Potter.  
  
"It is all very tragic. I regret that I was involved in those attacks. However, I must admit to a point of personal embarrassment now. You see, I was under the Imperius Curse during each of these events, and my will was not my own. I protested, of course, and fought valiantly against the Dark wizards who were unfortunately stronger than I.  
  
"It is shameful, that I am so weak. But I had no control over my actions. On that fateful night last summer, just as young Harry was being pulled away from the safety and sanctity of Hogwarts, I was visited by a business colleague. Unfortunately I made an unwise decision. Unbeknownst to me, he was in league with Mr. Pettigrew, and if we are to believe young Harry, and of course I see no reason not to, Mr. Crouch Jr. as well.  
  
"I was placed under the Imperius Curse and compelled to join Him at the graveyard. There, I was cursed again by several of his most loyal followers, and for the past year I have been under their control. I struggled, and fought on a daily basis. I was almost able to alert the Minister to my predicament, but as I fought against the horrid curses last summer, Mr. Potter created quite the stir and I was unable to see the Minister as he was busy handling that matter. Such a cruel twist of fate.  
  
"All year I have struggled against the evil that was inside of me, but I was too weak, too incapable of fighting it off. I am embarrassed and ashamed. I humbly ask for mercy from this just and honorable court, though I know I do not deserve it. I will live with shame for the rest of my life that I was not able to fight off, single-handedly, the forces of evil that attacked me."  
  
Lucius was a masterful performer, Harry realized. The audience was silently lapping up his every word. Harry looked with astonishment as he saw several witches quietly wipe tears from their eyes.  
  
Seething, he clenched his teeth and was about to stand up and denounce this for the farce that it was when he saw Minister Fudge stand up.  
  
"My dear man, what moving testimony. That certainly sheds quite a bit of light on this unfortunate matter. We will certainly have to take this into consideration. We all know how horrid those Deatheaters are, and it makes sense that they would target you. Such a proud and noble family, with such admirable resources at your command, you were an obvious target. The Ministry failed you, and I apologize for that.  
  
"And as you say, if only Harry hadn't caused the ruckus with his claims of Dementors attacking him, I would have been able to help you. I just hope that you can forgive Harry, and myself for our failures."  
  
Harry stared with shock as Fudge also wiped tears from his eyes. Fuming mad Harry stood up, only to be pulled back into his seat by Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Control yourself. This is exactly what Dumbledore has been waiting for."  
  
As if in concert with Mrs. Weasley's words, Dumbledore cleared his throat and looked over at Fudge with an inscrutable face.  
  
"Perhaps we should seek some evidence of this before we accept it at face value, Minister? Of course, I would hate to impugn Mr. Malfoy's character in any way, but these are serious offenses, we should do the utmost to verify his claims?"  
  
"Of course Albus. But how would we do that? Veritaserum doesn't work, I'm sure his mind has been wiped of the memory of the original curse, and he wouldn't be able to speak to that with any accuracy. I'm afraid we are left with no choice but to take him at his word. After all, Mr. Malfoy is an upstanding citizen, he has donated substantial sums to many worthy causes, and he sincerely regrets being used..."  
  
Fudge's voice trailed off as Dumbledore continued to glare at him. The contempt emanating from the Chief Warlock was obvious to everyone in the room.  
  
Dumbledore turned to Madam Bones and nodded his head. Smiling she stood up and walked over to Lucius.  
  
"Well Mr. Malfoy, we have a conundrum. How do we verify that you are telling the truth?"  
  
"I regret that I have no ideas. Unfortunately you must take me at my word. I hoe that is enough."  
  
"Ah yes, we could do that. But fortunately we do happen to have other resources available to us," she said with a slight smile. She snapped her fingers and the doors to the courtroom opened.  
  
Standing in the entryway was the most bizarre looking witch Harry had ever seen. First, she was absolutely ancient. She made Dumbledore look middle aged. Second, her outfit made Luna's usual choices of attire look completely normal. Her robes were a deep pink that crackled as she walked. Her hair was an off putting orange color. Not red, like the Weasley trademark, but really bright orange. She did not wear makeup, and Harry was convinced that was a mistake. As she approached Dumbledore, Harry saw that her gait was just not right. He couldn't say what it was, but everything about this woman shrieked 'odd' to him. He was surprised by the hushed conversation that erupted throughout the room as she stopped in front of Dumbledore and looked up at him expectantly.  
  
"Thank you for coming, Portia, did you bring the potion?"  
  
"Of course Albus. I'm not senile yet. Here it is."  
  
She handed him a cauldron that was filled with a bubbling potion. Steam was wafting over the cauldron, and the silence of the courtroom was interrupted by cracks and fizzles from the potion.  
  
Smiling, Dumbledore got out of his chair and approached Lucius. Holding the cauldron in his hand, he addressed the chamber.  
  
"Portia here has developed a new potion. We all know her history as the greatest Potions Master of the past two centuries, and she has developed a potion that can detect whether an individual has been subjected to the Imperius Curse in the past two months. That should be sufficient, I believe, to determine whether Mr. Malfoy was, as he claims, under the Imperius the night of the attack on the Ministry. I suggest that if he was under it then, we can assume he was under it for the past year as well.  
  
"Is the Court agreed?"  
  
Several whispered conversations were taking place as the members of the Court whispered furiously amongst each other. Harry was watching Lucius intently.  
  
When Dumbledore initially explained the potion, he saw a look of panic jump across Lucius' face, before he quickly resumed his normal bored, arrogant expression. Harry felt a surge of triumph at the fact that Lucius was afraid.  
  
Then he watched as Lucius' eyes kept darting to Minister Fudge who was busy chewing on his lips, obviously worried. As Dumbledore asked his question Fudge nervously stood up.  
  
"Well, erm, Albus, how do we know it works? Has it been tested? I'd hate to see Lucius be accused unfairly."  
  
"Of course it has been thoroughly tested you nincompoop," the witch Dumbledore had identified as Portia said crossly. "Who do you think you are to question my abilities?"  
  
His dignity ruffled, Fudge glared at the witch. "I am the Minister of Magic and I refuse to accept this potion unless it can be demonstrated as harmless and effective."  
  
Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head. Looking over at Harry, his eyes twinkled a bit and a small grin appeared on his face.  
  
"Very well Cornelius, we do this the hard way. Mr. Potter, Ms. Weasley, if you don't mind, please come forward."  
  
Looking at each other with confusion they hesitantly got up from their seats and walked down to stand next to Dumbledore. Lucius quickly looked away, but not before a flash of hatred shot through his eyes at Harry.  
  
"Cornelius, if these fine students of mine agree, I will place Ms. Weasley under the Imperius and then give her the potion. I will simply give Mr. Potter the potion. Ms. Weasley will exhibit the signs of having been under the Imperius, while Mr. Potter will not. I trust that this is a sufficient test of the potion?"  
  
Nodding his head, Fudge knew he was trapped. Harry and Ginny meekly nodded their heads as they too agreed to participate in the test.  
  
Dumbledore pulled out his wand and as he was about to cast the spell he looked back over at Fudge.  
  
"I trust that my use of an Unforgivable will be deemed as necessary and you won't seek my prosecution?" As the chamber filled with laughter, Fudge blushed a deep red and nodded his head angrily.  
  
Dumbledore cursed Ginny and made her demonstrate that she was under his control. He then ended the curse, apologized to her, and pulled two cups out of the air. Pouring a small measure for her, and then Harry, he asked them to drink the potion.  
  
Surprisingly to Harry it did not taste too bad. It was actually infused with a peppermint flavor that Harry found he liked. As he stood there, feeling foolish, nothing happened. But the gasps from the crowd made him turn to look at Ginny. In the center of her forehead a glowing letter I had appeared.  
  
"Excellent!" cried Portia. "See, it works perfectly. Now, let me administer the counter potion so the poor girl will not be afflicted for the rest of the day."  
  
Another cauldron appeared out of nowhere with the flick of Portia's wand and she poured two generous portions in the mugs that Harry and Ginny were holding. Quickly swallowing the contents, Harry grimaced at the taste. This was not nearly as pleasant, and it made Harry think as if he were swallowing bugs.  
  
Returning to his seat, he looked across the room and saw that Draco was ten times paler than he normally was. He was obviously worried about his father, and Harry felt a surge of triumph. This would get Lucius convicted, he was sure of it.  
  
Scowling, Lucius took the proffered mug from Dumbledore and quickly drank down his mug. The courtroom hushed and all eyes were staring intently at his forehead. Seconds passed slowly as nothing happened. Seconds passed into a minute and still nothing happened.  
  
Dumbledore looked Lucius in the eyes. The hatred that Lucius had for Dumbledore was now apparent; his eyes shot daggers at the venerable wizard.  
  
"It appears," Dumbledore said triumphantly, "that Mr. Malfoy may not be as innocent as he claims. Perhaps we should ask a few more questions?"  
  
Not hearing any objections, Dumbledore waved his wand and Lucius found himself seated in his chair, this time he was bound to it with thick magical ropes. Her eyes boring into him, Madam Bones approached Malfoy with a grim expression.  
  
"Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Please tell me about the night of the TriWizard championship. You say that you were put under the Imperius before apparating to Voldemort's side. Who did that to you?"  
  
In a calm, dispassionate voice Lucius spoke very clearly. "No one, I acted of my own free will."  
  
As a gasp went up through the courtroom, Harry saw that Lucius' eyes were spinning wildly. A thought popped up in Harry's head and he turned to look at Dumbledore who was calmly staring down at Lucius.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, are you saying that you were not under the Imperius and that you voluntarily went to Voldemort's side as a Deatheater."  
  
"Yes. I went willingly to his side when finally summoned after his return."  
  
"Objection! Objection! Objection!" screamed Fudge. "This Court has obviously been misled, I demand to know what was in that potion. Mr. Malfoy is obviously being coerced."  
  
"Cornelius, control yourself," Dumbledore said mildly. "It was simply a potion designed to determine whether the Imperius had been cast on the subject."  
  
"Then why is he suddenly changing his story?" demanded Fudge.  
  
"Because," replied Portia, "the foundation of my potion is the same as the Veritaserum potion. It would have detected the Imperius Curse, but since it did not, he is compelled to tell the truth."  
  
Fudge's face fell and he blanched. Crumpling back into his seat, he stared at Lucius, then Dumbledore, and finally back at Lucius.  
  
"But, he swore, he, I mean, Lucius, you swore that you hated Him. How could you do this? What would possess you to become a Deatheater?"  
  
"You pathetic fool. You were so easily swayed. A few kind words here, some Galleons there, and you believed what you so desperately wanted to believe. I easily preyed on your weakness for glory and accolades, for the appearance of power. For the past several years I have whispered to you that Dumbledore was plotting against you. I convinced you to ignore the actions of my associates as we scoured the world for the Dark Lord's return. When you managed to think for yourself and get suspicious, another generous contribution made your feeble mind quickly forget.  
  
"I fully believe in the Dark Lord's goal of taking over the world and ridding it of Muggles and Mudbloods," Lucius continued in that same calm, dispassionate voice. "I relished the power that he allowed me to exercise, the ability to torture Muggles, to destroy the Ministry from within.  
  
"I look forward to the Dark Lord's eventual triumph over you pathetic fools. Race traitors and half breeds, all of you. Pure blooded wizards should rule the world, not cower in fear at being discovered by filthy Muggles. The Dark Lord will win, and we will rule the world for eternity."  
  
What stunned Harry the most was the clam way that Lucius Malfoy said all of this. Though Harry knew it was partially due to the Veritaserum, it was also because Lucius so strongly believed in it.  
  
Dumbledore looked down at Lucius, contempt flaring in his eyes.  
  
"So, Mr. Malfoy, you freely admit to being a Deatheater, to willingly following Voldemort's orders, to using the Unforgivable Curses on muggles and wizard kind alike, to the attempted murder of Harry Potter and others, and to the other crimes you are accused of?"  
  
"Of course you pathetic old man. Of course I did all those things, and more. I killed for the Dark Lord, I wreaked havoc for the Dark Lord. I waited patiently for his return, preparing myself for his rise to power. I longed for it, I dreamed of it. I am not ashamed to admit it to you pathetic fools, for I will be freed and I will resume my position at the right hand of the greatest wizard to ever live."  
  
With Lucius' speech, Fudge fainted. It was too much for him to bear. He slumped to the ground, unconscious to the world. It was telling that no one went to his aid. The rest of the courtroom was stunned in to silence. Every witch and wizard in the room was disgusted at what Lucius was saying. All eyes were staring blankly down at him, except Harry's.  
  
Harry was coldly looking across the room at his school nemesis, Draco Malfoy. Draco was infuriated that his father had confessed his crimes. And Draco was also terrified that Lucius had confessed. Harry saw Draco struggle with the two conflicting emotions as the audience went wild with Lucius' last statement.  
  
Dumbledore stood up, the aura of power surrounding him was almost tangible. Harry was convinced he could feel the power of his headmaster as he calmly looked out at the audience and silenced them with a look.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, the Wizengamot finds you guilty of all charges. Guilty of murder. Guilty of the use of the Unforgivable Curses. Guilty of attempted murder. Guilty of trespass. Guilty of treason against the wizarding world."  
  
"Do your worst old man," sneered Lucius. "You won't live to see another year. The Dark Lord will not forsake me. I will be freed."  
  
Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes flash with pain, a shadow of anguish momentarily flitted at the edge of Harry's awareness, and Harry knew he was sensing the ancient wizard's emotions. Dumbledore bowed his head momentarily, and squared his shoulders.  
  
"Unfortunately, Mr. Malfoy, you leave us with no choice. Your crimes against the world, wizard and Muggle alike, are too numerous, too hideous, too complete. You show no remorse, instead you have gloried in your crimes. You even propose to continue your dark and evil ways should you ever escape or be freed."  
  
Lucius stared calmly at Dumbledore. Arrogantly looking around the room he sneered at the witches and wizards looking down at him.  
  
"You haven't got the guts to do anything but lock me up you wretched excuse for a wizard. Don't pretend to think you'll intimidate me into begging for mercy. Send me to Azkaban where I will await my Lord's deliverance."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I cannot do that. First, we shall destroy your wand. Harry? Please come down here again, if you would."  
  
Firmly telling himself not to smile at this honor, Harry walked down to Dumbledore's side. Dumbledore solemnly picked Lucius' wand up off the bench in front of him and handed it to Harry.  
  
"I believe it is appropriate for the Boy Who Lived to do what he has always been called to do, strike a blow against evil. Harry, if you would."  
  
Gesturing to Harry, Dumbledore nodded his encouragement and offered him a small smile. Grasping the sleek black wand in his hands, Harry raised the wand over his head.  
  
Later he would reflect that emotion welled up inside of him as he stood dramatically, poised with Lucius' wand over his head. That would be the only explanation for what he shouted.  
  
"Remember Cedric Diggory and all the innocents who have fallen. Voldemort will be defeated and we will win!"  
  
With a sharp gesture he savagely cracked the wand down, hitting his upraised knee. The sound of the wood snapping in two reverberated throughout the courtroom, the crackle of magic flashed across Harry's face and a puff of green smoke wafted out of the broken wand halves. Staring proudly at Lucius Malfoy, whose face had turned white with anger, Harry offered the broken wand to Dumbledore.  
  
"Keep them," Dumbledore said, refusing the offer. "Keep them with the others, as a memory of what we face. Keep them and never give up hope that we will win."  
  
Even here, Harry realized, in a courtroom full of people who were watching every moment, Dumbledore was reaching out to Harry. Knowing that others would question his judgment, knowing the Ministry would want the wand as a trophy, Dumbledore ignored custom and duty and gave the broken wand to his young protege, hoping to bring Harry some small pleasure from this dreadful day.  
  
His eyes glistening, Harry solemnly placed the wand halves in his pocket and quietly returned to his seat.  
  
Dumbledore returned his attention to Lucius who had regained some color in his face, but was still staring with the deepest loathing at Dumbledore.  
  
"Second, your financial assets, corporate holdings, business ventures, and real estate holdings are hereby confiscated. Everything will be liquidated and half the assets used to create a foundation to support the education of any muggleborn witch or wizard that attends Hogwarts. The other half will go to St. Mungo's to care for its patients."  
  
Lucius' scowl, if possible, deepened. Harry saw a commotion at the other side of the room and realized that Draco and his mother were animatedly whispering to each other, gesturing at Lucius and Dumbledore. As Dumbledore cleared his throat they both fell silent, staring at him with hatred exceeded only by their husband and father.  
  
"Finally, the Wizengamot has decided on your fate, Lucius Malfoy. You have shown no compassion to your fellow wizards, so you will receive no compassion. You have shown no mercy to your victims, so you will receive no mercy. You have shown no humanity to your fellow man, so you will lose your humanity.  
  
"The Wizengamot, without dissent, decrees the ultimate penalty, a penalty unused for some time. Your life is forfeit to the wizarding world, and you will be executed by the Killing Curse at sundown tonight."  
  
Hanging his head, Dumbledore looked weary and spent. Harry knew that Dumbledore believed in the power of mercy and redemption. Hagrid, Sirius, Lupin, even Snape, and countless others that Harry never knew, and would never know, had received second chances from the powerful wizard. Love was a powerful thing, and Harry knew that emotion lay at the very core of who Dumbledore was, it defined his very being.  
  
Harry knew this was taking too much out of Dumbledore, that it endangered everything that Dumbledore stood for, to sentence even this miserable, disgusting wretch, to his well deserved death. It would hurt Dumbledore to the core, and perhaps lessen his ability to stand as a symbol for the wizarding world as a beacon of hope. His mind racing, his heart pounding, Harry stood up.  
  
"NO!" he shouted. "This cannot be done. We cannot do that. It's not right." Racing down to Dumbledore's side, he looked up at his headmaster, his eyes pleading.  
  
"Professor, I'd like to address the court, please."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes misted as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry. We have no choice."  
  
"But we do Professor. We always have a choice. That's what makes us different from him, from them. Please? Trust me."  
  
Dumbledore stared at Harry with wonder. Looking deep into Harry's eyes, Dumbledore saw the determination, and the hope, surrounding Harry. And the love. The love that Harry felt for the Headmaster of Hogwarts poured out of Harry's eyes, filling Harry with a sense of purpose. Dumbledore saw that purpose, and his spirits soared. Gravely he nodded his head and sat down, giving Harry the freedom to speak.  
  
"May it please the court," Harry started with a calm, but powerful voice. "I beg you to reconsider this decision. I ask not for Lucius' sake, for he deserves this fate. Were we on the field of battle, I would eagerly find a way to kill him as savagely and foully as possible. You know that I mean this, as I am due for trial myself before this body for similar crimes. His life is not worth a single knut. His life is not worth a second thought."  
  
Harry's voice was calm, but determined. He looked earnestly at each face as he spoke, moving around the room. He addressed each member of the court and then all others gathered there. He spoke with his heart, with his soul. He spoke with passion and conviction. And he spoke with hope.  
  
"He has admitted his guilt and he deserves his fate. But death sometimes is too easy. I know, I have dealt with death all my life. My parents were cruelly taken from me by his dreaded master when I was a mere babe, an infant in my mother's arms. Their death was quick because of his foul master, but I have suffered from that moment on.  
  
"When I came to Hogwarts, I was again stalked by evil. Voldemort was stirring and he controlled a weak wizard. I had to combat Him, again, and overcame his evil. I killed the wizard that Voldemort controlled, but it was my life or his, it was in battle that he died. I do not regret the death I caused, but I do not glory in it either. It was, and is, necessary to defend myself against evil.  
  
"Over the past few years I have confronted that evil again and again. And this disgusting fool aided and abetted it at every turn. This malicious, heartless fanatic tried to find ways to bring about my death, the death of those close to me, hoping it would hasten Voldemort's return. And when Voldemort did return, he rushed to his side, eager to cause death, destruction, and worse. Eager to cause harm to me. To you. To us all.  
  
"This is my fate because I will always stand against evil. But I will always win. My mother made a similar choice when she sacrificed herself for me. Despite her death, she still won, because she protected me, she saved me for future battles against evil. She helped me defeat Voldemort.  
  
"I make that choice too. I choose, every day, to confront and defeat evil. And I will win.  
  
"WE will win, together.  
  
"A wise man once told me it is often most difficult to choose between what is right and what is easy. It is right that Lucius be made to suffer. He has caused so much suffering in his life that it is right that he be made to suffer mightily. But it is easy to exact retribution and take his life, even though he deserves it.  
  
"It would be a good example to set, I know. 'Cross the wizarding world and you will die.' Normally I would agree with you. Normally I would volunteer to cast the curse myself. This man richly deserves his death. On his own he has killed countless people, magic and muggle alike. By aiding Voldemort he helped kill my parents. He helped kill my godfather. By aiding Voldemort he helped kill Cedric Diggory. Of course he deserves to die.  
  
"But that same wise man also once said that death is not always the worst you can do to a man. Sometimes there are worse things you can do to punish a man than take his life. Sometimes it is right, and easy, to make a man truly suffer for his crimes."  
  
Harry finally found himself in front of Draco and his mother. They were glaring at him with hatred, eyes flashing at him, loathing pouring out of every fiber of their beings.  
  
"In your wisdom you have taken away his money and resources. You have taken away his freedom. What does he have left? He has hope that his Lord will come for him. Hope is power, a power we should not underestimate. And he also still has his power, his magic. His wand is broken, but his power remains. But does it have to?  
  
"Can we take away his power? I understand that there are spells and instruments, are there not, that can rob a wizard of his power forever, never to be returned? They require great effort, and certain items that the Ministry has secretly guarded for centuries. They have been unused because of the terrible toll it exacts. But it can be done, can it not?  
  
"I suggest this measure of retribution. Let us remove Lucius Malfoy's magical power, turn him into a Squib, something less than worthless in his world view. He would be akin to a muggle, and it would tear at his soul every day for the rest of his miserable life. Without his money, without his power, Voldemort wouldn't think twice about rescuing Lucius or saving him. Voldemort holds no loyalty to his followers. He uses them for his goals and discards them when they are no longer helpful to his mad plots. And we would then rob Lucius of his hope of being freed."  
  
Turning his back on the Malfoy's he crossed back over to Dumbledore and finished his speech while staring straight into Dumbledore's eyes. Harry's voice was firm and smooth as he finished, but his eyes were pleading. Begging Dumbledore to do this, for Harry, for himself, for the world.  
  
"I beg of you to take this action. You will exact a just retribution, and you will not stain your hands with his death. He does not deserve to have his death on your conscience, sir, on any of our consciences."  
  
Silently he turned to walk back to his seat when he heard the soft sound of applause from a darkened corner of the room. Harry stopped and stared up to see who was making the noise, but he couldn't quite make it out. Slowly others joined in, tentatively at first, but with growing confidence. The noise crescendoed around the room as more witches and wizards joined in the applause. Almost every person in the room, save the Malfoy family and Dumbledore, was applauding. As Harry looked up at his headmaster he saw an expression he hadn't seen often in his life. It was filled with love and respect. As their eyes locked, the sounds of the applause faded in Harry's ears as if he were alone in the room. Dumbledore's pained expression had vanished and he smiled, a smile that made Harry want to laugh with joy.  
  
"You're right, of course," said Dumbledore. "This will give us hope, it will give us justice, and with this we set ourselves against Voldemort with an excellent symbol: the lowering of his most faithful servant. With this gesture we are showing that we will win."  
  
As if on cue, the room stood, clapping louder and louder, people were slamming their hands together to make as much noise as possible. With a grin the Weasley twins started chanting, but Harry couldn't make out what they were saying. Then the rest of the Weasley family joined in, Ron and Hermione grinning widely and applauding as loudly as possible.  
  
The chant spread as others picked it up, nervously at first, but with growing strength. It slowly spread down to where Harry could finally pick out the words. In a strong cadence that would have made a marching band proud, the chant quickly made its way around the room.  
  
"We will win! We will win! We will win! We will win!" 


	8. Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

Chapter Eight - Ding Dong the Witch is Dead  
  
As two burly Aurors grasped Lucius by the arms he started writhing and struggling, trying to break free from their grip. Screaming in agony, he flailed his body about in an attempt to escape from his jailers.  
  
Disgusted with his struggles, Madam Bones pulled out her wand and shouted "Stupefy!" at him. As the spell intersected with him, Lucius' body went limp and his head slumped forward, lolling against his chest.  
  
As Dumbledore called the day's session to a close, Harry was overwhelmed by the number of witches and wizards that approached him to shake his hand and praise his speech. Several witches had tears in their eyes as they thanked and commended him for his courage and pitied his loss of parents and godfather. Wizards puffed out their chest and said they agreed with his decision, as if it was the only option that had been presented or they had offered it themselves.  
  
Finally Mrs. Weasley grabbed his hand and firmly guided Harry out of the courtroom. Studiously ignoring several reporters, she took him to the fireplaces.  
  
"You and I are going to the Burrow. I have a few emergency portkeys that will bring us to Headquarters to meet up with the rest. But we need to get you out of here, now."  
  
Nodding his head and grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Harry marched to a fireplace and shouted "The Burrow!"  
  
As he stepped in to the green flames, but before he disappeared he turned and saw the scowling face of Draco Malfoy glaring at him from a distance.  
  
***  
  
As soon as they arrived at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley reached behind the family clock and pulled out a flaming red feather. Harry recognized this as a portkey, and they grabbed on to it and were whisked away to number 12, Grimmauld Place.  
  
As the disorientation of traveling by portkey he normally felt quickly faded, Harry followed Mrs. Weasley into the drawing room.  
  
"Why don't you sit down while I go make us a light snack. The others should arrive here soon, Arthur was going to bring them on the Underground."  
  
Turning to walk to the kitchen, she looked back fondly at Harry.  
  
"Oh, and Harry, I just couldn't be more proud of you than I was this afternoon. You were absolutely amazing. You saved Dumbledore. You saved us all, I think."  
  
Suddenly exhausted from the mental and emotional strain of the day's events, Harry collapsed into a plush chair, leaning his head against the side arm. Still dazed at the reaction from those present at the courtroom, Harry was sorting out the events of the day, working them into his plan for his own trial at the end of the week. Realizing that this would help make things easier for the complete execution of his plan, Harry allowed himself another broad smile.  
  
Hearing Mrs. Weasley rattling around in the kitchen in the background, Harry was surprised when he saw Kreacher shuffling into the room, his hands full of various disgusting mementoes of Sirius' family that hadn't been removed yet.  
  
"Oh, sorry sir," Kreacher muttered "wretched excuse for a wizard that he is, destroying the noble Lord who has thankfully returned. Does Potter have any orders for me sir? Perhaps sir would like me to leave?"  
  
"No, Kreacher," Harry said firmly. "You've already been given orders by Dumbledore never to leave this house again, and I am also giving you that order. As the rightful master of the Black Estate, you are never to leave this house. Until I figure out how to punish you for causing Sirius' death, you are to remain in this house, as much as that disgusts me."  
  
"It disgusts me more than it does him, stupid fool, consorting with low- borns and mudbloods, half-breeds and senile wizards. He doesn't know how I danced with glee when I heard of the death of Mistress' wretched son. How I had a few moments of joy when I talked with the noble cousin."  
  
"Enough Kreacher, get out of this room. Get out of my sight! Never come in to a room where I am unless I call for you. But you are never to leave this house. Do you understand?"  
  
Compelled by the magic that bound his race, Kreacher reluctantly nodded at Harry's orders. Fleeing, the miserable little elf disappeared into the kitchen and crawled up into its room.  
  
Sighing with disgust, Harry walked over to the front door. He could hear the twins half a block away and wanted to greet them all now that they had finally made it back to his house. Feeling his spirits pick up again at the sound of laughter from his friends, Harry threw open the door and was shocked.  
  
Standing in the middle of the group, laughing louder than all the rest, was Dumbledore. Harry thought he had lost 20 years of age in the half hour that had passed since the trial of Lucius Malfoy ended. Surprised at the joyous sound coming out of the headmaster's mouth Harry barked out a burst of laughter, joining in with his friends.  
  
As they quickly entered the house, their laughter filling the room, Harry's joy was quickly cut off as the portrait of Mrs. Black started screeching at the top of her lungs.  
  
"FOULNESS! FILTH! TRAITORS! ABOMINATIONS IN MY HOME! HOW DARE YOU, MUDBLOOD, IN MY HOME. DISGUSTING RACE TRAITORS!" The sound was deafening and all laughter ceased as everyone scrambled out of the room to avoid listening to the terrible sounds and hateful words.  
  
Everyone that is, except Harry and Dumbledore. Harry stared with loathing at the portrait and started walking over to close the curtains when Dumbledore stopped him by placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Dumbledore then cleared his throat in a meaningful way, power radiating from him, as well as contempt. Harry sensed the headmaster's presence and realized that the portrait had finally stopped screaming as she too took notice of Dumbledore. Looking down at him scornfully she opened her mouth as if to start screaming again but stopped suddenly as Dumbledore held up his hand, his finger pointing into the air as if in warning.  
  
Harry silently watched as Dumbledore turned to look at Harry thoughtfully.  
  
"Harry, I realize I forgot to discuss something with you at your birthday party. Something that will help you deal with the portrait and other issues with your new home. I would not call this a present, because it is not something I can give you, instead let us call it an opportunity."  
  
"Um, sure, Professor," Harry said slowly. "But, erm, I'm not sure what you are talking about."  
  
"Of course Harry," said Dumbledore while smiling. "Let me explain, I would like you to consider taking on an employee, one of mine to be precise, to help you complete the restoration of this house before you return to Hogwarts."  
  
"I don't know professor, who did you want me to hire? I'd feel funny about having Hagrid work for me, or any of the professors."  
  
"Oh no, Harry. No, that wouldn't do at all. You need someone with rather specialized skills, someone with different magic than we possess. This individual is someone you know quite well, I believe." Dumbledore's was quite amused and his blue eyes were twinkling merrily.  
  
Harry felt as if he could physically feel the light bulb that seemed to flash in his head. Staring incredulously at his headmaster a small grin appeared on his face as well.  
  
"You mean Dobby sir? You think he'd want to come work for me?"  
  
"I think it would take a flock of thestrals to keep him away if we were to suggest it, Harry. If you agree, I will call him to us immediately."  
  
Harry stared into drawing room, thinking about Dumbledore's offer. Of course he liked Dobby, the house elf certainly had an attachment to Harry and it was kind of nice. And Harry did feel a certain amount of responsibility for Dobby since he had freed him from the clutches of the Malfoy family during second year. Dobby had even tried to save Harry from the evil plot Lucius had crafted with the diary.  
  
And during Harry's fourth year, Dobby had helped with the second task by providing the gillyweed, which enabled Harry to swim underwater to save Ron and the others from the merpeople. Most importantly, Dobby had helped find the Room of Requirement and tried to warn Harry about Umbridge's attack on the DA. Somehow they had forged a connection, a bond, and Harry realized that this would be a good idea. Plus, it would give him a set of hands that could help clean up the house. Of course, Harry wasn't entirely aware of how much help that would be considering Dobby's penchant for trying to help a little too much.  
  
Nodding his head in agreement, Harry looked at the headmaster. "Yes, professor, that would be a good idea. Let's ask Dobby though. I know he likes working for you, I don't want to force him or try to trick him. We'll ask him straight out."  
  
Smiling, Dumbledore held out his hand and quickly snapped his fingers three times. Seconds later Harry heard a soft pop and Dobby appeared in the middle of the entryway.  
  
"Headmaster is calling Dobby, sir? What can Dobby do for you sir?" The familiar house elf appeared just as Harry remembered him. Dobby was wearing an odd collection of clothing, right down to the mismatched socks Harry had given him for Christmas. As Dobby turned and saw Harry, the house elf's eyes opened widely.  
  
"Harry Potter! Dobby is so pleased to see Mr. Harry Potter sir!" Jumping up into the air and grasping Harry's arm, Dobby began shaking it vigorously. "Dobby is very pleased to see you sir, Dobby knows you have had a bad summer with wretched evil wizards attacking you and unfriendly relatives being mean to poor Harry Potter. How is Mr. Harry Potter sir?"  
  
Smiling kindly at him, Harry gently withdrew his arm so that Dobby would stop shaking it so much. "I'm fine Dobby, I'm fine. Listen, Professor Dumbledore and I have a question for you and we want you to think about it before you answer, okay?"  
  
If possible Dobby's eyes grew even wider. "Harry Potter is asking Dobby a question? Harry Potter wants Dobby's opinion? Oh Harry Potter is such a kind and wonderful wizard, the greatest wizard who ever lived is Harry Potter he is."  
  
Jumping around in joy, Harry had to wait for several minutes while Dobby released some of his nervous energy.  
  
"All right Dobby, all right. Look, this house we are in is now mine. I inherited it from my godfather, Sirius. But I need some help cleaning it up and taking care of it for the rest of the summer. Would you want to come work for me for the rest of the summer? I can pay you as much as you want, and you can take as many days off as you want as well. Now I want you to think about it before you respond."  
  
Dobby exploded with joy, prancing about, jumping, laughing, and finally stood shaking with unshed tears standing in his eyes, looking up at Harry and Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Sirs, it would be the greatest honor of Dobby's life to be able to work for Mr. Harry Potter in his home. Dobby is not worthy of this great honor. But Dobby is pleased that Mr. Harry Potter has made this kind and generous offer. If Headmaster Dumbledore does not object, Dobby would very much like to accept. And Mr. Potter does not need to pay Dobby, sir. Working for such an honorable wizard is payment enough, and Dobby would never want for anything while working for Harry Potter. Dobby would help Harry Potter with anything!"  
  
Harry and Dumbledore stood grinning at the trembling house elf, careful not to look at each other for fear of laughing at the obvious joy this offer had brought to Dobby. Finally Dumbledore straightened his shoulders and looked down at Dobby.  
  
"Then, Dobby the House Elf, I formally release you from your contract with me and free you to make whatever choice about employment you may make. You will always be welcome at Hogwarts if you ever want to return."  
  
"Dobby," Harry said, still smiling. "I would like to offer you a position, with the same salary and benefits that you negotiated with Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts. You will be paid and get days off, and we will design a more appropriate uniform for you so that you don't have to wear such a mix of clothing. Maybe Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione can help us make something for you."  
  
Suddenly a flash of insight came upon Harry. He turned to Dumbledore.  
  
"Sir, do you think you could spare another of your employees? I think Dobby and Winky would like to continue working together, and this is a large house."  
  
Once again Harry and Dumbledore had to avoid looking directly at each other. Dobby's obvious enthusiasm for the idea was touching and they couldn't stand the thought of Dobby misunderstanding their humor at the situation. As Dumbledore nodded his head, Dobby jumped for joy, again making a scene to demonstrate his happiness.  
  
"Oh sirs! Oh Dobby would be so very happy! Yes, Dobby will accept the generous offer of Harry Potter, sir, and yes, Dobby would very much like to work with Winky at Harry Potter's house."  
  
Once again Dumbledore snapped his fingers and Winky appeared with a pop. Looking around at the three of them gathered in front of her, Harry watched as she gulped nervously.  
  
"Yes, Headmaster, sir? What can Winky do for you sir?"  
  
Before Dumbledore could explain, Dobby grabbed Winky and started explaining the offer he had just been made. Winky was staring incredulously at the three of them as Dobby finished. She finally turned to look straight at Harry.  
  
"Winky does not believe this. Can it be true? Winky would not understand why such a good wizard would want her in his service after all the bad things that have happened to him as a result of Winky's mistakes. Winky cannot accept this kind offer." She turned sadly away from the trio standing before her.  
  
Harry sensed that she was about to disappear and return to Hogwarts. His heart ached at the miserable look that appeared on Dobby's face. Harry quickly reached out his hand and gently placed it on Winky's shoulder.  
  
"Wait Winky, please. I am serious about this. I want you to come work for me, to help me with my house, to clean it, to maintain it. Please, I need you to do this."  
  
Winky's body started shivering. "Sir, I cannot do that. I am not like Dobby. I cannot work for you, be PAID. It is not right. I understand that I have to accept money from the Headmaster, but that is because I work for a school, not a wizard or a family. But I cannot be paid by a wizard, even one as great as Harry Potter." Tears welled in her eyes, as she took a deep breath, preparing to disappear.  
  
"Winky," Harry said quietly. "What if, instead of working for me, what if instead of being paid, what if I took you in to my service? What if you became my house elf and worked here?"  
  
Winky stared at Harry wordlessly. She stopped shivering and just stared at him. Seconds, then minutes rolled by, finally she blinked.  
  
"Harry Potter would do that for Winky? Harry Potter would accept Winky into his service? Despite all the bad things that Winky has done? Betrayed her last master? Been paid to work? Worn clothes? Harry Potter is a kind and generous wizard. Winky would accept that offer, if Harry Potter were to make it."  
  
Looking at Dumbledore, who firmly nodded his head in agreement, Harry smiled.  
  
"Winky, I would like to accept you into my service as my house elf. Will you do that?"  
  
Smiling a broad smile, Harry saw the weight that had burdened Winky ever since she had left the service of the Crouch family disappear. The change to Winky was marvelous to watch, she looked happier than Harry remembered ever seeing her, she was almost as jubilant as Dobby.  
  
"Yes sir! Oh yes, Harry Potter! Yes I will enter your service! Master is too kind and generous to give Winky a second chance, and Winky will do whatever Master asks of her to show her loyalty!"  
  
"My first condition is that you never, ever call me 'Master' or anything like that. You can call me 'Harry' or 'Harry Potter' or 'Mr. Harry Potter' or anything you want, but not 'Master.' You are my friend Winky, Dobby too, and I will not allow you to think of yourself as less than me. I want you to work for me because it will make you happy, because you want to. But you are not a servant. You have value and you have my respect. Is that clear?"  
  
Nodding her head thoughtfully, Winky agreed before Dobby gave a loud squeal of delight and grabbed Winky by the arms. Together they danced around the room their laughter infectious, causing Harry and Dumbledore to join in. The noise brought out the Ron and Hermione from the kitchen to investigate. The sight of two house elves, Harry, and Professor Dumbledore dancing around in the entryway was too much for them and they joined in the laughter until Hermione finally asked what was causing the celebration.  
  
"Well, I've just asked Dobby and Winky to come work for me, and they have agreed," Harry said turning to her. He saw a flash of determined anger pop up in her eyes as she stared at him before deciding what to say.  
  
"I will assume, Harry, that you will be paying both of them," she asked coolly. "After all I can't believe that you would enslave two free house elves."  
  
Harry's smile faltered and he heard Winky gasp and Dobby groan. "Well, Hermione, I will be paying Dobby. The same wages as he was making at Hogwarts, since he didn't want any more. But Winky refused, she wouldn't consider it."  
  
"What?!?" Hermione exclaimed. "So you've allowed her to give up her freedom, to become your slave? I though better of you Harry."  
  
"NO!" shouted Winky. "Miss will not speak badly of Mr. Harry Potter sir. Miss does not understand what it is like to be a house elf. Miss does not know what it is like to be a FREE house elf. Winky could not stand it. Winky is not like Dobby, Winky was not liking the freedom, the wages, the time off. Winky loves to do things for her family, and Mr. Harry Potter is now her charge."  
  
"But Winky, it's not right," began Hermione before Winky interrupted her.  
  
"Stop. Please," Winky said, tears welling in her eyes. "Mr. Harry Potter's Wheezy's Miney is not right. It is not right to force Winky to do something Winky does not want to do. Mr. Harry Potter made it clear that Winky is to help, but is not to serve. Mr. Harry Potter is not unkind like other wizards, is not mean to Winky. Mr. Harry Potter told Winky never to call him 'Master' said Winky is not his servant. Mr. Harry Potter says that Winky is his friend."  
  
As she finished speaking, even Hermione was moved by the awe in Winky's voice at being called a friend by Harry. It obviously meant a great deal to Winky that Harry had taken her in to his service, and in fact, Winky already looked better than anyone remembered her looking since the Quidditch World Cup. Looking back and forth between Harry and Winky, seeing the joy this decision brought Winky and realizing that she had no room for argument, Hermione sighed and shook her head.  
  
"I won't complain for now, but I will try to convince you that freedom is better Winky. You just didn't give it enough time."  
  
Obviously relieved that Hermione was dropping the subject, Winky smiled and shook her head. "No, Mr. Harry Potter's Wheezy's Miney is wrong. I is not like Dobby, Dobby is weird house elf, but nice house elf. He is free. Winky is Mr. Harry Potter's. This is good."  
  
Harry too was relieved that Hermione had dropped her crusade, even temporarily. Turning to Professor Dumbledore he saw that the headmaster was very pleased.  
  
"Now, Professor, would you please explain why this was so important? This whole conversation started because of the portrait of that evil hag, and I believe that you have something in mind. Would you care to share this with us?"  
  
A small chuckle escaped from Dumbledore's lips. "Very good, Harry, very good. Yes, as a matter of fact there are several reasons for my request, but the first one is to deal with this offensive portrait. I do not relish the thought of being the only one who can control this erratic woman. I think that you will find there are certain advantages to having a house elf, or two, in your service. If I may suggest this, why don't you ask Dobby and Winky to remove the portrait?"  
  
"Okay," said Harry, grinning at the prospect of getting rid of this evil portrait. "Dobby, Winky, would you please remove this portrait from the wall? I do not want it there any more and would appreciate it if you would take it down."  
  
Jumping at the chance to do their first official work for Harry, they both immediately grabbed on to the frame of the large portrait. It would not budge. They clamored all over the portrait, pulling at the corners, trying to pry it up from the sides. No success. Jumping back to the floor Dobby and Winky quietly conferred, oblivious to the interested stares from the humans gathered around them. Turning back to the portrait Winky grabbed hold of Dobby's hand. As one they stretched out their free hand and snapped their fingers in unison.  
  
A dull glow suddenly appeared around the frame of the portrait. Frowning, the two house elves again snapped their fingers. The glow gradually became brighter and the portrait started to shake. Sirius' mother suddenly started roaring in inchoate fury.  
  
"FILTH! ABOMINATION! Foul creatures, what are you doing? How dare you do this, you do not have the right! You do not have the power! I forbid it! You have no honor! As mistress of this house I order you foul, disgusting creatures to stop immediately."  
  
Wincing at the harsh words Dobby and Winky flinched away from the portrait and the glow faded. Harry placed a kind hand on their shoulders and glared at the portrait.  
  
"ENOUGH!" he roared. "It is you who is an abomination, a foul, disgusting memory of a sick and twisted disgrace. You and your fetish for dark and evil things, your obsession with purity has diseased this house and destroyed your family, destroyed your son. You are not the mistress of this house, you are merely a foul portrait of a thankfully dead woman who was warped and cruel. I am now the rightful owner of this house, I am the heir of the Black Family estate, and my word controls this house. I have asked for your portrait to be removed from this wall and my house elves are obeying my request. You have no power any more, you have no right to interfere. Your diseased ramblings will no longer haunt this house."  
  
Encouraged by Harry's support, Winky and Dobby glared at the portrait and stood up. Firmly grasping each other's hand they quickly snapped their fingers in quick succession, in a percussive movement that sounded like the marching of a band. The glow around the portrait flared into brilliance. The portrait started shaking violently and pulling away from the wall.  
  
Suddenly with a loud crack, the portrait snapped off of the wall and crashed to the floor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione scattered away from the massive portrait and Harry's house elves quickly grabbed hold of the portrait and looked up expectantly at Harry.  
  
"Where does Mr. Harry Potter sir want Winky and Dobby to take the evil nasty portrait?" Winky asked with distaste.  
  
"I want you to take it out back and destroy it. Break it apart, burn it, whatever you need to do to rid the world of that foul portrait forever."  
  
Nodding feverishly, anxious to complete their first chore from Harry, the two house elves quickly scampered out through the kitchen with the large portrait. Sirius' mother was screaming at them the entire time, but the two dedicated house elves pointedly ignored her and quietly disappeared from view.  
  
As Ron let out a small cheer at the newfound silence and the absence of the oppressive portrait, Harry realized that with some significant changes, this house could become a decent place to stay and it might not be as depressing as it was while Sirius was cooped up trying to hide from the Ministry.  
  
Avoiding that line of thought that Harry knew would only depress him, he looked back over at Dumbledore and thanked him.  
  
"I can't believe they were able to do that, but thank you Professor. I'm glad to get rid of that awful portrait. I think that I will have the two of them start improving the rest of the house by disposing of more of these offensive objects. It will take a while," Harry said, eyeing the horrendous display of house elf heads that decorated the entryway, "but it will be worth it."  
  
"I agree Harry. I am quite pleased to have helped. Now, if you will excuse me I have a few tasks to complete before tomorrow's trials. I will see you there."  
  
Dumbledore quietly turned and left the house. From outside Harry and the others could hear the silent pop that signaled Dumbledore's apparition. Turning to Ron and Hermione, Harry suggested that they start looking through Hermione's new library.  
  
Calling into the kitchen to let Mrs. Weasley know that they would be upstairs, Harry, Ron, and Hermione started climbing up the stairs.  
  
"Just a minute Ronald," called Mrs. Weasley. "I want your help here in the kitchen. Your sister is already helping with the dessert, and I want you to start making a salad. Plus I think that maybe Harry and Hermione could do without your help up in the library." She said that archly, but Harry couldn't help but grin at his friend's groan.  
  
"Don't worry Ron, I won't try to steal her from you. Today anyway," Harry said smiling. "Plus, I think she's kind of attached to you for some reason. Merlin knows why."  
  
Laughing at Ron's outraged scarlet face, Harry scampered up the stairs to avoid the feeble swing that Ron threw at his best friend while Hermione shook her head at the two of them.  
  
"Ron, he's only teasing. He knows you'll react vividly, so he's pushing your buttons. Ignore him and he'll stop teasing us, otherwise he'll keep it up." Planting a quick kiss on his flaming cheek, she followed Harry up the stairs, but at a slower, sultrier pace. Behind her she heard Ron swallow loudly and she laughed throatily.  
  
Finding Harry already in the library, Hermione closed the door behind her and swept her gaze around the room. Not sure where to start, she picked up a small book and casually flipped through it.  
  
"Why do you delight in teasing him like that?" she asked. "Are you okay with us being together? We wanted to tell you earlier, but you were so upset and angry earlier this summer, and we are still figuring out how this all works."  
  
Harry sensed that her casual tone of voice belied a serious concern. Harry realized that his opinion, his approval, was important to Hermione, vitally important. He was touched by the weight that his opinion meant, and knew precisely what to say.  
  
"Hermione, I've been expecting this since at least second year, I'm just surprised you waited so long to tell Ron how he feels." Harry grinned as he finally got a small blush out of her. "You don't have to tell me that he's an idiot, I room with him, remember? I swear I was going to lock the two of you in the broom closet after that stupid Yule Ball, try and force it out of you. What took you so long?"  
  
"Oh Harry, you approve? You're okay with it? With us? I don't want to hurt you, or exclude you. You are so important to me, to Ron. We don't want it to interfere with anything that needs to be done."  
  
"Okay, first of all, yes I approve. I applaud it. I'm thrilled for both of you. Second, you two being together is brilliant! You are not excluding me. Erm, wait. Exclude me from some stuff, please? I don't want you two to start snogging in front of me all the time or worse. But this doesn't change anything between us. That is, unless, you're telling me you have, you know, feelings for ME as well. Because I couldn't do that to Ron, and I don't love you that way, sorry." He was grinning broadly at her as she glared at him.  
  
"You wish Potter," she said, a small grin. "But as Dobby said, I'm 'Wheezy's Miney' no one else's!"  
  
"Good," smiled Harry. "Let's not give Rita anything to drool over. But it doesn't mean anything is different. It's still the three of us against the world. Four if you add Ginny. And Neville and Luna too, I suppose," Harry said thoughtfully. "We'll work around it. I imagine it won't really stop your incessant bickering, but I refuse to referee any fights. You two work out any lovers' quarrels without me. But I assume you'll win them all."  
  
Hermione flashed him a knowing grin and nodded her head at his guess. "Women usually do. Well, since we seem to have worked that out, what are we going to do about you?"  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Harry cautiously. "I don't need a girlfriend, and there's no one I'm interested in. I have too much going on and since Cho, well, let's just say that's a distraction I don't need."  
  
"Uh huh. Sure. We'll see Harry Potter. We'll see. But I was actually talking about YOU. I'm glad you had that breakdown, and that Ginny managed to talk some sense into you, but you haven't really talked about it since then. You're hiding your pain still, Harry, and you need to let it out. It's not healthy to keep it bottled up."  
  
Hermione had picked up a small book and was casually leafing through it, pointedly not looking at Harry. She knew that if he viewed this as a confrontation or another form of intervention he would bottle everything up and probably transfer some of his rage in her direction. That was the last thing she wanted.  
  
Hermione was so terrified for her friend, for Ron, for herself. The events at the Ministry impacted her dramatically. Events in her life since meeting Harry and Ron had brought her face to face with danger and evil, so she was acutely aware of the perils. But despite her willingness to assist her two best friends in the various adventures, Hermione's had not really placed herself right in evil's presence in such a dramatic way. None of their previous exploits had truly prepared her for the direct confrontation with the Deatheaters, and no amount of studying or learning could ever replace the knowledge she had gained from that evening.  
  
More importantly, in Hermione's thinking, was the certainty she felt that she, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville would surely be dead were it not for Harry. If Harry hadn't taught them how to fight with the D.A. sessions, they wouldn't have lasted a minute against Malfoy and his cronies. If Harry hadn't managed to think of a diversion and let them escape, they would have surely died in the narrow confines of the rows of prophecies. Malfoy would have won, Voldemort would have won, and they would all be dead, probably without the wizarding world even knowing something had happened.  
  
So Hermione decided things needed to change. Most importantly she knew that Harry's pattern of taking everything onto his own shoulders needed to change. He was eating himself up over the burden, the guilt, the sorrow of Sirius' death, and maybe more. Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew that a lot of Harry's attitude had to do with things other than Sirius. There was always the Dursley's to blame, of course, and Voldemort. Hermione resolved herself to talk with Professor Dumbledore about it at the earliest opportunity, hoping to have him shed some light on this.  
  
But helping Harry was first and foremost on her mind. Well, most of the time, when she wasn't finding herself daydreaming about a funny redhead that is.  
  
Thoughts of Ron immediately sent a warm tingle around her heart, and she realized they were lucky to find each other, especially now. She just wished Harry would open his eyes and see that he needed a relationship like that too. Of course, she'd have to work on Ginny as well, since Ginny had seemingly convinced herself that she was over Harry. But Hermione knew better. Or at least she hoped she did.  
  
Hermione hadn't realized how much her thoughts had wandered until she heard Harry's voice loudly ask if she was paying attention.  
  
"Hello? Anyone in there?" asked Harry. "You make a profound statement like that and then ignore me when I start talking. Can Ron really be that interesting?"  
  
Harry grinned a little, and a bright smile burst out on his face when he got a full-fledged blush on Hermione's cheeks.  
  
"Victory!" he crowed. "This is definitely fun!"  
  
"Oh shut it. For your information I was thinking about you, erm, for the most part. I'm worried about you Harry, we all are. We don't want to see you hurting, and even though you're better now, I can still see that you are suffering."  
  
"It's not like it's been years, Herms, it's still raw, but it's better. I have accepted that it wasn't entirely my fault that Sirius died, though I certainly contributed to it. But he did know what he was doing, and he was trying to save me, all of us. I miss him, every day. I think I will always miss him, but Ginny was right. I can't let it destroy me, or they win. I've turned my grief into action, I have worked out a few plans with Dumbledore, and some he's not fully aware of, that will help me feel like I've achieved something in Sirius' name.  
  
"And we have each other. You, Ron, Ginny, the Weasley's, we'll be together for the next few weeks, and then back at school. We'll have classes, the D.A., Quidditch, and all sorts of other stuff."  
  
"Quidditch? But what about your stupid ban? Did Dumbledore get it lifted?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Didn't you hear? Dumbledore overturned it. Said that the hag didn't have authority to give me a lifetime ban and forced the Ministry to lift it. He threatened to release some interesting information about Fudge's interference between Ludo Bagman and the goblins if I wasn't allowed to play again. Fudge crumpled faster than anything."  
  
"Oh Harry, that's just thrilling! I'm so excited for you. Does anyone else know?"  
  
"I'm not sure, Dumbledore didn't tell me if anyone else knew, but didn't tell me to keep it secret. But I'm sure McGonagall knows, and Hooch. But we'll find out when term starts if anyone else knows. We'll tell Ron and Ginny, after you help me explain to Ron that he's going to be captain this year."  
  
"Captain? Ron? Why Harry, I'd have thought that you'd want to be captain."  
  
"First, no one knows Quidditch better than Ron. He is an expert strategist and he's forgotten more about Quidditch than I ever want to remember. He's a natural. Plus, I don't think that I'll have time to do it, with the D.A. and other stuff I have to do. And I need to have Ron build up his confidence in leading people."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You know, Hermione. Don't be daft. You know I am the central focus of Voldemort and his people. They have to get me. They want to get me. They need to get me. Since you and Ron are so thick and won't leave me alone, you have to be ready. There will be a time when we may need Ron to be in charge, to lead the battle. If he's not used to giving orders, if he's not used to thinking under pressure, he'll fail, and we may all fail.  
  
"I know Quidditch isn't the same as fighting evil, we learned that at the Ministry. But it's not like we can ask a few Deatheaters to come to Hogwarts and help train us in beating them. So we look for the next closest thing. You and I will have the D.A., Ron needs this. Plus, I don't want it. I want to enjoy being Seeker and not have to worry about the whole game, just avoiding bludgers and finding the Snitch. It may be my only chance at having something carefree and fun for the next few years, I don't want to muck that up with having to be in charge of it."  
  
Hermione looked thoughtfully at Harry. Her friend had changed a lot more than she had realized. He was so much more serious, deadly serious. And he was a lot more calculating than she had realized. His casual reference to plans and plots with Dumbledore, his behavior at the court that afternoon, Hermione could see some grand strategy at work, she just wasn't sure what it was. But her confidence in Harry was strong, she knew he would do the right thing.  
  
Suddenly their heads both turned to the door as they heard a tremendously loud sound reverberating through the house. The entire place shook with the noise, and they felt a tingle as powerful magic raced through the building. Opening the door, Harry was shocked by the sound of a scream of agony that seemed to have no source. It was echoing throughout the house, bouncing back and forth along the hallways and up and down the stairs.  
  
Harry raced down the stairs, followed closely by Hermione. As they reached the landing, a brilliant light momentarily blinded them both. Standing there, stunned by the noise and light, Harry looked around trying to find the source of the commotion.  
  
With a soft pop Dobby and Winky appeared, both house elves looking glum. Seeing that their clothing was singed and their hands blackened, Harry bent down in concern.  
  
"Dobby, Winky, what's wrong? Are you two okay?" he asked. "What was that noise, and the light?"  
  
"Oh, Mr. Harry Potter sir, we is so sorry," Winky said, barely able to control the tears that threatened to flow. "We is following sirs orders and, well, nasty ugly evil Kreacher is trying to stop us. But we is following orders, so we destroyed the horrible mean picture. And Kreacher, well, Kreacher-"  
  
"Kreacher wanted to be with his mistress," finished Dobby. "So he completed his service sir. He, well, he is no longer working for this house."  
  
Dobby looked up at the hallway where the house elf heads were mounted, and Harry's eyes followed that motion. Harry realized that there was a new head up on the wall, and it took every fiber of his being to control his stomach at the sight.  
  
Kreacher was up there, or Kreacher's head was up there. And for the first time that Harry had ever looked at the miserable house elf, he was smiling the happiest smile that Harry had ever seen. His service was complete to the noble house of Black, and he had finally received his promised reward.  
  
"That's revolting," said Hermione. "Absolutely sick."  
  
"I agree," said Harry. "Dobby, take them down, take them all down and bury them. Get rid of every head and bury them deep in the ground. I never want to see these again."  
  
"With pleasure Harry Potter sir. Dobby is glad to obey."  
  
With a snap of his fingers, Dobby, Winky, and all of the house elf trophies disappeared.  
  
***  
  
Dinner was a chaotic affair. Several members of the Order appeared to congratulate Harry for his speech at the trial, and also to enjoy one of Mrs. Weasley's finest efforts. The table was groaning at the weight of all the food, and everyone's spirits were up at the successful conviction of Lucius Malfoy. Mrs. Weasley had cast a few charms on the lights and they were merrily bobbing overhead, slowly changing colors to throw different lights around the room.  
  
As the food dwindled and everyone gathered slowly drifted into the stupor of having eaten a sumptuous meal, Harry felt a peace fall over him that he hadn't felt for too long. The twins were huddled in a corner with Mundungus, probably plotting some shady scheme to aid their shop, and Mrs. Weasley was eyeing them with suspicion. However she oddly kept her opinions to herself and seemed content to just keep a careful eye on the three troublemakers.  
  
Tonks was busy entertaining Hermione and Ginny with her usual mealtime game of taking on bizarre additions to her face and coloring her hair. Harry was again amazed at how spectacular the changes in her appearance were, and not for the first time did he envy her ability to change so easily. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Remus trying not to laugh at Tonks, and Harry decided to give him an out.  
  
"Remus," he said suddenly. "I think it's time we had a talk. Can we go upstairs to the roof? I want to see the sky for some reason."  
  
"Sure, Harry. My pleasure."  
  
Quietly taking their leave from the table, and profusely thanking Mrs. Weasley for the superb meal, Harry and Remus made their way upstairs to the roof. Opening the creaky door, Harry was startled to see that they were much higher up than he would have thought. Seeing his bewildered expression, Remus chuckled.  
  
"It's charmed, Harry. The last step up here compresses a lot of space, so we're about 9 or 10 stories higher than the rest of the house. Quite convenient, really, we can see around for quite a ways, but don't have to walk all the way up here."  
  
"It's nice," Harry admitted. "Very peaceful up here, away from the noise, the crowd. Not that I mind them, of course," he said hastily. "But it's nice to have some quiet."  
  
"This was Sirius' favorite part of the house. He would sit up here all night long when he could. He didn't sleep much, or for long. Too many memories of Azkaban would come rushing back. He told me that when he was a child he would escape up here to get away from his mother's ranting about who he'd marry, how he'd honor the Black family by marrying a pure blood. Even at a young age Sirius didn't belong here. He was so happy to escape when he got older, and lived near your Dad."  
  
Remus' expression softened and he looked out at the night sky with a sad smile on his face.  
  
"Those were fun times, Harry. We were at school and had no worries. Yes, Voldemort was rising, but we were too young to have to do anything. Looking back I know that Dumbledore was preparing us, because we trusted him so much and he trusted us. But we were still able to have fun. Our adventures were spectacular, and we always had as much fun re-telling them as we did doing it."  
  
Remus sighed and looked at Harry, seeing the changed young man in front of him.  
  
"But you wanted to talk about something else. What is it?"  
  
Harry was quiet for a few moments, collecting his thoughts, looking out at the skyline and watching several owls float along the night sky.  
  
"Lots of things, nothing, I don't know," admitted Harry. "I just, well, I have to make a decision about Wormtail. I didn't really think about it when I did what I did today, with Lucius. But I realize that the same thing is true for Wormtail. We can't kill him, despite everything he did, everything he deserves. I can't imagine letting him die in cold blood. So what do we do?"  
  
"What you did today was spectacular Harry. And it was the right thing to do, I suppose. Dumbledore looked defeated when he declared the sentence. I saw him falter as he decreed Lucius' death. I don't think anyone else did, but my senses are stronger, better. I saw him about to drop, he was so burdened by guilt, by despair, by self-doubt. But you saved him, saved us all really.  
  
"Your speech turned Dumbledore around. It was fascinating to watch. He seemed stronger, more powerful, happier. I could smell him switch from despair to love in a flash, and you saved him, you really did."  
  
"Well, that's part of why I stopped him. But I didn't really think about Wormtail. I was only thinking about Professor Dumbledore, and the best way to punish Malfoy. But how do we punish Wormtail? He's barely above a Squib anyway, so taking away his power won't do as much to him. He has no money, no power. What do we do?"  
  
"I don't know, Harry," sighed Remus. "I just want to kill him. He killed my friends, my pack if you will. He deserves a wretched death. But you're right, we can't kill him in cold blood. And we can't let him have a chance to escape. Maybe Dumbledore will have thought of something. But we won't have to worry about the rest of the Court. They'll go along with you and Dumbledore now."  
  
"I'm counting on that," muttered Harry. "They owe me."  
  
Remus pretended not to hear that, and took a deep breath, clearing the air out of his lungs.  
  
"Enough of this, Harry. Let's talk about something else. Did I ever tell you about the time Sirius cast a love charm on your Dad and had your Dad convinced he was in love with that giant squid in the lake at school? James spent an entire weekend trying to communicate with it to confess his love until he figured out he'd been charmed by Sirius."  
  
Remus' laughter was contagious and Harry soon found himself laughing with abandon as Remus continued telling stories about the pranks pulled by the Marauders while at Hogwarts. They continued talking for several hours, until early in the morning, when they decided to go to sleep. Both knew it would be another long day at court. 


	9. The Rat, A Dog, and the OWLS

Chapter Nine - A Rat, a Dog, and the OWLS  
  
Another chaotic morning had passed as Harry struggled to make it to the Court on time. Gasping for breath as they ran into the courtroom, he found that seats had been saved for himself, Remus, Hermione, and the Weasley's. As if they were waiting for him to arrive, Professor Dumbledore immediately called the day's session into order and called for Peter Pettigrew to be brought in.  
  
Harry was shocked to see that the tiny Animagus that marched into the courtroom was more unkempt and bedraggled than he would have thought possible. His silvery hand was encased in a glowing golden orb, and Harry looked questioningly at Remus.  
  
"It's a magic nullifier," the werewolf explained. "Dumbledore wasn't sure what powers Voldemort may have endowed on the rat's paw, so he encased it in that to prevent any surprises. It won't destroy the hand, as several people suggested that we do, but it prevents any spells or magic from coming out if it."  
  
Nodding his head thoughtfully, Harry watched as Pettigrew was magically secured to the chair in the center of the room. Dumbledore looked down at the man who had betrayed Harry's parents. Harry could see several emotions flit across the headmaster's face, contempt, pity, sorrow, and, oddly, Harry thought, remorse. Harry wasn't sure what the headmaster felt remorse about, but he knew that emotion was present in the ancient wizard's mind.  
  
The crowd grew silent as Madam Bones stood and called for her first witness. Fully expecting to be called, Harry started to get up when he felt Remus grab his hand.  
  
"I think she'll be calling me, first," he said softly. "You may want to leave, this will not be pleasant. You'll hear things you might not want to know."  
  
"What do you mean," Harry whispered. "What don't I want to know?"  
  
"The reason why I wasn't chosen to be Secret Keeper. I'm sure Peter will discuss that, to damage my credibility, and to hurt me. And to hurt you."  
  
"I'm not leaving Remus. Nothing that disgusting rat will say can hurt me. I won't believe his lies, and the truth can't hurt me."  
  
As Madam Bones called Remus to testify, he sighed and looked deep into Harry's eyes. "I doubt that, Harry. But all I will say is that you have been warned."  
  
Walking down to the courtroom floor, Remus willingly took a sip of Veritaserum and proceeded to answer the questions from Madam Bones.  
  
She grilled him for half an hour, asking questions about the night Harry's parents were killed by Voldemort, why Remus wasn't the Secret Keeper. Remus truthfully answered that he thought it was because James wasn't entirely sure he could trust a werewolf. Harry's heart sank at the look on Remus' face, who seemed to agree with that assessment. He was outraged at the nods of agreement from several of the witches and wizards in the audience and on the court. He realized he couldn't do anything to change their attitude immediately, but he vowed to himself that he would erase that prejudice some day.  
  
Remus continued talking about the night that he, Sirius, Peter, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the Shrieking Shack. How Peter had confessed to being Voldemort's spy, and how he had framed Sirius for his own murder of almost a dozen muggles.  
  
Madam Bones concluded her questioning and turned to Pettigrew.  
  
"Your witness," she said with disdain.  
  
"Remus," he said, with dread. "Good to see you."  
  
"I wish you were dead," Remus spat with anger. "I wish you were stuck in your rat form and let free in a room full of hungry cats."  
  
"I guess that's true, since the serum is still working. But, let's see. Ah, yes, let's find out what you have to say for yourself. Did Sirius ever tell you why was I really made the Secret Keeper?"  
  
Harry loathed this pathetic little wizard. His oily voice grated on Harry's nerves. The shifty eyes that darted nervously about the room made Harry want to poke them out with his wand. And the silver hand. Harry shuddered at the memory of the accursed man cutting of his own hand to bring Voldemort back to a body. Harry's anger was a glowing red ember, burning deep in his soul.  
  
"Sirius convinced James that Voldemort would ignore you and focus on him. Lily wasn't convinced, she wanted it to be me, but James decided on you."  
  
"And do you know why?" Pettigrew was enjoying this! Harry saw the grin emerge on the little man's face.  
  
"James thought I was the spy. He knew it wasn't Sirius and he thought you were too weak to be a spy. So it had to be me."  
  
"There had to be another reason that he didn't trust you though, what was it?"  
  
"I'm a werewolf. Despite everything we'd been through, James couldn't get over that. He couldn't trust me with his wife and son. He couldn't trust me with their lives."  
  
Tears formed in Remus' eyes. His face was contorted in agony, his breath coming in gasps.  
  
"Why Remus? Why was the poor little werewolf so untrustworthy? Did something happen?"  
  
"You know it did, rat."  
  
"I want to hear it, it's part of my defense."  
  
"Peter," interrupted Dumbledore wearily. "This won't help you. It's not relevant."  
  
"No, Albus, I'll answer. The truth must out." Remus sighed and gave an apologetic look to Harry. "Just before James cast the Fidelius charm, there was a full moon. Back then, before the Wolfsbane potion was perfected, crooked potion makers would sell various brews that they claimed worked. Even though it was a sham, I had to try. I bought a potion from a man who claimed to have been successful. The first time it worked, or so I thought. It was glorious. I slept the whole night through and didn't destroy a thing. The second time I bought it, it failed. I went on a rampage, and destroyed my home. I had relied on the potion, so didn't reinforce the wards to keep me in. I was running through the town, had cornered a small boy, and was about to destroy him, when James appeared, in his stag form.  
  
"Normally the stag would have been a welcome companion to the wolf, we would have played together, romped through the woods all night long. But something was different. Something was wrong. The potion didn't help, it made the wolf stronger, angrier. It was a set-up.  
  
"I tried to attack the stag, to kill it. Rend it limb from limb. But James was too strong. The stag's anger outmatched even the anger of the wolf. He chased me away from the boy, away from the town. He pursued me through the nearby forest all night long. Finally, when morning came, and I transformed back into myself, James transformed too.  
  
"His anger was terrible. He screamed at me for what seemed like hours. He accused me of terrible, dark things. He refused to listen to my excuse. He doubted me when I tried to tell him about the potion. He said I couldn't be trusted anymore. That was the last time I talked with him, the last time I saw him. Voldemort killed him not long thereafter."  
  
The compulsion to tell the truth ended, as Remus had fully answered the rat's question. He gasped for breath, tears flowing down his cheeks. Dumbledore looked down at Remus with pity and excused him quietly. Nodding his head, Remus turned to reclaim his seat, but stopped. Refusing to look up at Harry, Remus started walking towards another exit, intent on leaving the room as quickly as possible.  
  
Stunned by Remus' testimony, Harry was too slow to stop Remus from leaving. Jumping from his seat, he ran after his father's friend, his friend. He reached the corridor, only to find it empty. Running down the hallway, he caught a glimpse of Remus pushing his way through a crowd, trying to get out of the Ministry.  
  
"Remus!" shouted Harry. "Wait! Wait, please, we need to talk."  
  
Ignoring the young wizard's pleas, Remus reached the fireplaces, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared into the fireplace. Harry was too far away to hear what the older wizard had said, and when he reached the fireplace, he slumped against the wall.  
  
Gulping for air, he looked around and tried to figure out how to find where Remus had gone.  
  
"Here boy," said Moody. "I think I know where he may have gone."  
  
Whirling around, Harry saw the ex-Auror staring kindly at him. It was weird to see a sympathetic smile on the gruff man's face, but Harry appreciated the attempt at kindness.  
  
"Where?" Harry asked desperately.  
  
"It's a safe house. We've protected it from being broken into, and only a few people know the code name for it. If they say the real name, they get bounced back. Throw the powder in and say 'Moony's Shack.' I think you might have been there before."  
  
Harry figured out where Moody was sending him, and weakly grinned his thanks at the old man. Throwing his powder in the fire, he stepped into the green flames and shouted his destination.  
  
***  
  
Coughing and spluttering, Harry bounced down onto the floor. He had arrived in the Shrieking Shack at Hogsmeade. Looking over to one side of the house, he saw the area where he had saved Pettigrew's life. Deep remorse flooded over Harry. If he hadn't spared Pettigrew, Voldemort might not have returned to a body. Sirius might still be alive. And Remus would not be in such agony right now. Nor would Harry.  
  
His anger flared, and Harry clenched his jaw in a determined glare. Stomping through the house he called for Remus to come out. There was no reply. Fear started to creep at the edges of Harry's awareness. Remus had looked particularly distraught, and Harry wasn't sure what Remus was thinking.  
  
Harry thought he heard a muffled sound coming from the back of the house, so he walked through the small, disheveled kitchen. The back door was open, swaying slowly in the slight summer breeze. Harry walked through the door, and almost wished he hadn't.  
  
Remus was weeping uncontrollably, his breath coming in wracking sobs, his fists flailing at the ground. Harry was stunned to see this normally coolly controlled wizard failing to have any grip on himself. It was unnerving, and distressing.  
  
"Remus," said Harry quietly. "Stop, please."  
  
But Remus couldn't hear Harry. The guilt he had borne for fifteen years had burst through all the layers that Remus had built up to block it from his conscious mind. The agony of James and Lily's death sprouted anew in his mind. The deep, terrible loathing of himself as he lived his life a free man while Sirius was locked away in that despicable jail, a traitor, a turncoat. Remus should have done something to save James and Lily, save Peter, save Sirius. But he couldn't. He was so terrified of the wolf, so worried about losing control, he never took any risks. It wasn't safe. And he purposefully avoided getting close to anyone. They weren't safe.  
  
It was easier when he was young. James, Sirius, even Peter were so carefree and mischievous that the danger didn't seem real. They would laugh about close calls. Once when they were running through the woods and Hogwarts grounds they came upon a fellow student and the wolf almost got too close. The next day Sirius and James made a big deal of how funny it was, but Remus remembered his own encounter with the wolf that bit him. And the danger hit home.  
  
Once they graduated, Remus was more careful, he spent every knut he earned adding security improvements to his tiny home. He spent countless hours learning complex charms and spells to secure the wolf. But when the potion he bought seemed to work, he got careless, greedy for freedom. He didn't perform all of the spells, they were complex and draining. So Remus cut some corners.  
  
And he almost killed a child as a result of his carelessness. And he lost his best friends due to his mistake as well. James and Lily, dead at Voldemort's hand, Peter ostensibly killed by Sirius, and Sirius in prison. Every day Remus lived with that guilt. Every night he was tormented by nightmares.  
  
When Dumbledore had asked him to teach during Harry's third year, Remus jumped at the chance to get to know James' child. But even as he watched Harry go through the trauma of that year, he avoided getting too close. It wasn't safe to love a werewolf.  
  
No, you couldn't love a werewolf, not at all. It just wasn't safe.  
  
"Harry, get out!" Remus growled. "Go back to the Ministry, leave me alone."  
  
"NO!" Harry shouted. "This is absurd. You did nothing wrong, Remus. It's not your fault. Don't let that cursed rat confuse you or play on your emotions. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"What do you know about it? I betrayed James' trust. I attacked him. He couldn't trust me. If he had, maybe he'd have made me Secret Keeper and Voldemort wouldn't have found them."  
  
"Stop it!" Harry said, anger shaking his voice. "Don't do this to yourself. You made a mistake, my father made a mistake, Sirius made a mistake. No one is blameless, but none of you is at fault. Peter was the traitor, Voldemort the murderer. They're to blame, they're at fault. You can't do this to yourself."  
  
"I can, and I will. You don't understand. You are too young."  
  
"Oh sod off you stupid arse. I don't understand? I'm too young? I understood when you told me Sirius' death wasn't my fault. I was old enough to listen when you absolved me of my guilt. Is that it, only YOU can feel pain, guilt, sorrow? Only you are old enough to grieve? That's crazy."  
  
"Harry," said Remus pleadingly. "I just want to be alone."  
  
"Bugger that. I wanted to be alone this summer and you pestered me into accepting your company. Now it's your turn. You'll never be alone Remus. I'll always be there for you. My father is dead. My mother is dead. My godfather is dead. You are all I have left. You are my only connection to my parents and I'll be damned if you think you can distance yourself. You once said that you'd always be there for me, well it works both ways. You can't pick and choose when it is convenient to be part of my life. I need you now more than ever. I just heard the man who helped kill my parents accuse my father's best friend of being the cause of his death. That should send me around the bend a bit, don't you think? I should talk this out with someone.  
  
"Hmm, Ron? No, he'd clam up. Hermione? No, she'd give me a book and tell me to write my feelings down. Mrs. Weasley? She'd make me something to eat, hug me, and cry over my head. Dumbledore? He'd tell me something wise and noble and utterly incomprehensible. I'd feel bad about feeling bad afterwards. None of them would exactly be helpful.  
  
"I need you Remus. I need you to help me understand why this all happens to ME. I need you to tell me it isn't as bad as it seems. I need you to show me that, despite the odds, we'll survive, we'll win. Who else besides a werewolf can do that? You could have easily turned evil. Most do. But you fought for control. Every day you fight for control. I do the same thing."  
  
Remus was quietly listening, staring in bewilderment at Harry's insight. The agony, the pain, the guilt, seemed to lighten as Harry talked. The burden Remus carried for all those years diminished as Remus realized Harry was right. The irony of the situation was not lost on Remus. He had told these same sentiments to Harry just a short while ago. If they were true for Harry, weren't they true for Remus as well?  
  
"I could have become evil. Living with the Dursley's was bad enough, and then I find out I have power. I could easily use my magic to hurt people, I could even enjoy it. This happens enough with Muggle families, a repetitive cycle of violence from generation to generation. Why am I different? Because I chose to be different. I knew right from wrong, and I made the choice.  
  
"Make a choice. Choose to be different. Help me with my struggle and I'll help you with yours. It's a battle every day, but some days are better than others. Some days are easier than others. And eventually we will win, this will be over. And the struggle will cease."  
  
Remus was speechless. He had no idea what to say. He struggled to his feet and looked at this remarkable young man. Harry was completely open to Remus, his emotions on his sleeve. Remus saw trust, he saw determination, and he saw love. In some ways Remus was scared. He didn't want to be too close to Harry, didn't want to hurt him like he had hurt James. But he knew that it was too late. He had to be there for Harry, to repay James, to repay Sirius.  
  
Wiping away the tears on his sleeve, he offered a small smile to Harry and without words grabbed him in a tremendous hug. They both started shaking, their emotions rubbed raw, and their bodies drained of energy.  
  
"Thanks Harry," whispered Remus. "I'm sorry."  
  
"That's okay. But next time, I'm just rolling up a newspaper and whacking you on the nose. It may not work on you, but the wolf should respond."  
  
For some reason Remus found this to be the funniest thing he'd heard in a long time and collapsed to the floor in laughter. Of course since he was still hugging Harry, he pulled him down as well and the two of them rolled around the floor gasping for breath as they laughed away their pain and anxiety.  
  
***  
  
After they recovered from their bouts of laughter, Harry and Remus talked for a long time, absolving each other of their misplaced feelings of guilt, and promising that they would talk with each other if either started feeling the weight of the world resting on their shoulders. Finally realizing they were missing the rat's trial, they returned to the fireplace and made their way back to the Ministry. When they rushed back to the courtroom, they saw that the audience was leaving. Dumbledore had obviously called a break for lunch.  
  
"Harry! Professor Lupin!" Hermione's distinctive voice rang out from the crowd. She ran to greet them and gave both of them quick hugs. "Are you two alright? Where did you go? That was truly wretched of him to do that to you Professor, but he got his. You missed the whole thing! Dumbledore was stunning. Peter didn't offer much of a defense and Madam Bones was finished in no time. The Court agreed and he's been sentenced. It's just amazing."  
  
"Well, don't just stand there," demanded Harry. "What happened? What was the verdict?"  
  
"Oh Harry, it was obviously guilty. Guilty of the murder of those poor Muggles. Guilty of the murder of Bertha and Cedric. Guilty of the use of the Unforgivable Curses. And so much more."  
  
"And his punishment?" asked Remus, his eyes blazing in anticipation. "What is the rat's punishment."  
  
"Funny you should put it that way," said Ginny, approaching them with Ron in tow. "Dumbledore turned him into his Animagus form, and put him inside another anti-magic globe."  
  
"It's bloody brilliant, Harry!" added Ron. "Dumbledore said it is unbreakable, so he can't break out, it provides food every day, and will clean itself once a week. Dumbledore said he got the idea from his smartest student, as if we don't know that's Hermione here, after what she did to Rita."  
  
Hermione blushed at the compliment and the affectionate look that Ron gave her. Soon they were lost in each other's eyes, ignoring Harry, Remus, and Ginny.  
  
"Anyway," said Ginny, rolling her eyes at the two of them and joining in Harry's grin. "Dumbledore said he'd stay in there until his natural death. It's a terrible sentence, but fitting. And Dumbledore praised you Harry for showing that there was power in mercy. The courtroom applauded you again. Well, except Fudge. He was pouting the whole time. Seems he's realized that with Peter convicted of the crime Sirius was accused of, it will be difficult to block Dumbledore from clearing his name."  
  
Harry and Remus looked at each other and broke into huge grins.  
  
"So, he's going to be a rat, forever?" asked Remus. "Perfect! I'll have to buy Dumbledore a box of lemon drops as my thanks."  
  
"Why don't we pick some up from Fred and George?" asked Harry, mischief in his eyes. "I'm sure they've done something wicked to them, and Dumbledore might not suspect you right now."  
  
Ginny and Remus laughed at the proposed prank, and nodded their heads in agreement. Mrs. Weasley had finally made it through the crowd and approached them.  
  
"Are you boys alright now?" she asked, looking at Harry and Remus, her eyes boring onto their heads. Accepting the meek nods, she smiled. "Excellent, we can't let the two of you try to accept responsibility for the whole world. Now, let's go to lunch and get back here for Sirius' trial. Arthur thinks it should be very short. Apparently rumor has it that the members of the Court don't want to sit through another long trial, and it's mostly academic since they just convicted Peter. It should be simple to clear Sirius once and for all."  
  
Mrs. Weasley marched everyone up to the fireplaces and they headed to the Burrow for lunch.  
  
***  
  
Lunch was a quick affair, everyone was anxious to get back to the courtroom for Sirius' trial and no one really wanted to intrude on the thoughts of Harry and Remus as they mentally prepared for what they thought would be a difficult afternoon. Fortunately everyone was wrong.  
  
Making their way back to the court, Harry was surprised by the buzz of energy from the gathered crowd. As they made their way into the courtroom, Mr. Weasley crossed the room and grabbed both Harry and Remus by the arm. Bending his head low, he started whispering to the two of them.  
  
"It seems Fudge has realized how much trouble he is in," started Mr. Weasley. "He's realized the Ministry's error, so he says, and issued a full and complete pardon for Sirius. He's going to announce it as soon as the trial starts."  
  
"What has he got up his sleeve?" asked Harry. "Is he trying to keep Dumbledore from getting the credit? What does this do for him?"  
  
"It makes him look like he's in charge," replied Remus. "He gets to make the magnanimous gesture. He gets to clear Sirius and apologize on behalf of the wizarding world. He thinks that he'll look like the winner."  
  
Dumbledore appeared and the crowd hushed, finding their seats. Calling the courtroom to order, he opened the case.  
  
"The Ministry versus Sirius Black. Mr. Black is charged with murder of thirteen Muggles and aiding and abetting Lord Voldemort. Mr. Black is unfortunately deceased, so this trial is called to determine his guilt, or innocence of the charges against him, charges for which he served twelve years in Azkaban prison. Without a trial, I might add.  
  
"I recognize the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."  
  
"Thank you, Albus," he said with great dignity and tremendous pomposity. "Thank you. We are here to discuss a terrible matter. An unfortunate matter. But a matter we can set right.  
  
"Fourteen years ago, in dark and terrible times, errors happened, mistakes were made. But we have learned from those mistakes. In a haste to resolve terrible crimes, decisions were made that this body must surely regret."  
  
"Since he's the one who made the mistakes," grumbled Remus, "shouldn't he be the one who regrets these decisions?"  
  
"Hush," said Harry. "Or I'll find an extra copy of the Daily Prophet."  
  
Harry grinned at the disgusted look Remus gave him and returned his attention to the Minister.  
  
"Fortunately I have the ability to rectify those mistakes, though undoubtedly too late in the circumstances. I am pleased to announce that I have just signed a full and complete pardon for Sirius Black of all charges, and issued a decree stating that he was never in league with, erm, Him. Mr. Pettigrew's conviction and the various testimonies of others under Veritaserum have proven conclusively that Mr. Black was not guilty of any of the crimes he was unfairly accused of. I just wish this information had been brought to my attention earlier, but we should not blame anyone but Mr. Pettigrew for this situation. But, despite the tragic circumstances, I think we can all agree that Mr. Black will rest more comfortably knowing that the wizarding world recognizes his innocence."  
  
Incredibly pleased with himself, Fudge sat down to swelling applause. Gradually the few remaining allies of the Minister stood and encouraged those around them to applaud the Minister's actions. Slowly the room stood to applaud, though without the power or conviction of previous displays.  
  
Only Harry, the Weasley's, Hermione, Remus, and Dumbledore remained in their chairs. Each of them sat, staring coldly at the Minister, and he could not help but flicker his eyes at each of them. His expression grew cold and frosty, insulted at this lack of respect.  
  
As the applause died down, Dumbledore stood and gathered the attention of the entire room.  
  
"Excellent Minister, I see that we need not proceed any further with this trial." His eyes were twinkling vividly, and Harry swore he saw a smirk appear on the face of the normally stoic wizard. "You have cleared Sirius of all charges, which I concur is a wise decision. Your pardon is truly a good deed.  
  
"But we seem to have forgotten something. Sirius Black was imprisoned on Azkaban for twelve years. Twelve years of anguish and torture by the Dementors. Twelve years of wrongful imprisonment, largely because he was not given a fair trial. How do we make this right? A simple declaration of his innocence cannot be enough to repay a man for such a terrible fate. We must demonstrate our regret, prove our sorrow. Words often ring hollow, actions matter.  
  
"So how do we demonstrate our regret? How do we show our remorse? We must compensate Sirius, or I should say his estate. We must pay for our error, pay for the damage we caused.  
  
"What would be an appropriate amount? I don't think you can put a price tag on a man's freedom, on his sanity, on his name. But we can try. Let's see, twelve years of incarceration, the besmirching of his good name, deprivation of his ability to see his friends and godson, the attacks of the Dementors. Hmm, let's just come up with a round figure, would 12 million galleons be fair? I think so, I think so." Smiling at the crowd who was almost unanimously nodding their heads in agreement, Dumbledore finally looked down at the Minister of Magic.  
  
Fudge realized he was trapped. He couldn't think of a way out of Dumbledore's maneuvering, so weakly nodded his head.  
  
"Excellent, let us proceed then. The Ministry has pardoned the excellent Mr. Sirius Black and this Court affirms that. Mr. Sirius Black is cleared of all charges and declared an innocent man. The Ministry will compensate the estate of Sirius Black in the amount of 12 million galleons. This court stands adjourned."  
  
***  
  
Harry walked out of the Ministry in something of a daze. Something that he had hoped for over the past two years seemed somehow anticlimactic. He was thrilled that Sirius was cleared, and declared innocent, but it only made him miss Sirius that much more. It wasn't fair that this had only happened after Sirius was dead. It wasn't fair that Fudge only relented under considerable duress. If it weren't for Fudge's stupidity, Sirius would have been declared innocent years ago and maybe, just maybe Sirius wouldn't be dead now.  
  
"Stop it," Harry muttered to himself. "That's not going to help." Shrugging his shoulders at himself, he followed the Weasley's who were nervously piling into Fred and George's car.  
  
"We're taking everyone out to eat!" Fred exclaimed. "We have a lot to celebrate today and no one should have to cook.  
  
"It's our treat," George chimed in. "We found this excellent restaurant in Wales that we want to try, so just sit back, relax, and don't pay attention to how fast we're going."  
  
Having experienced their driving abilities before, Harry swallowed in anticipation and sunk low into his seat. Of course the back seat was magically enhanced so Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Remus were able to fit in with room to spare. Fred and George were laughing at some joke in the front, but the back seat was noticeably quiet.  
  
Even Mr. Weasley looked a bit green around the edges, the Muggle mode of transportation obviously making him uncomfortable. It almost made Harry laugh except for the worry that if he didn't concentrate on controlling his stomach he might have an unfortunate incident.  
  
Three quarters of an hour later they arrived at the restaurant. Thoroughly pleased to have arrived in one piece, the car quickly emptied and everyone entered the restaurant. To Harry's surprise it was a seemingly elegant establishment, without any of the usual characteristics that should have attracted Fred and George to the place. Harry wasn't the only one that was confused.  
  
"I don't understand," said Ron. "This looks like a normal place. Nothing is glowing green or about to explode. What gives?"  
  
Casting furtive glances at each other, Fred and George protested that they liked the food here and that was it.  
  
The hostess showed them to a private room, magically summoning their menus and crystal goblets of water, and quickly walked through the specials and left them to decide what they wanted.  
  
"Umm, Fred, there's no prices on this menu, how do we know what it costs?" asked Ron.  
  
"Ron," said Ginny, rolling her eyes, "if you have to ask what the price is you can't afford it."  
  
"Ginny, be nice," protested Hermione. "How would he have known?"  
  
His face flaming red, Ron pulled up the menu to his face and tried to avoid looking at anyone. Harry sympathized with Ron because he hadn't known that either.  
  
"Oh," he said. "I didn't know that either. It's not like the Dursley's would take me to a nice place. But I didn't bring any gold with me."  
  
"It's our treat," insisted Fred. "We owe something special to our family, and we want to celebrate all the things that have happened. Malfoy convicted."  
  
"Pettigrew convicted," added George. "And Sirius cleared! What a day!"  
  
Wordlessly Remus lifted his glass and held it out in front of him, soon everyone followed suit. "To friends and family, here, apart, and departed. Let us enjoy our meal, our company, and our night!"  
  
Clinking their glasses together everyone joined in the celebratory mood, chattering amongst themselves. After several minutes, a waitress walked in and Fred, George, Mr. Weasley, and Remus stopped talking to stare at her. Oddly neither Ron nor Harry even cast a second look her way.  
  
She was absolutely stunning. A gorgeous woman with velvet black hair, creamy chocolate skin, deep violet eyes, and a grace that most women would kill to obtain. She walked with a languid ease, almost floating through the room. A smile played across her face, one that held the promise of joyous laughter and the warmth of a spring day.  
  
The room quieted as she started to speak.  
  
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. And boys," she added, looking at Fred and George with a soft twinkle in her eyes. "Welcome to the Sahara. I am Amounique, your waitress. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know. I'll take your orders now."  
  
Fred quickly nudged George in the ribs, prodding him to speak. "Erm, Amounique, have you given any thought to our offer? I mean, that is, our job offer?"  
  
A small grin played at the corner of her lips. "Yes, boys, I have. I'm still considering it, though I'd have expected Mr. Jordan would be here as well. Is he detained?"  
  
Grinning devilishly, George winked at Fred. "No, I'm sorry, this is a family celebration. Lee is minding the shop tonight while we celebrate. But I'll let him know you inquired about him, if you don't mind."  
  
"Not at all," she said, winking back at him. "But make sure he understands I'm distressed that he didn't show up for himself. In fact, tell him I'm quite hurt."  
  
Letting slip a short laugh, she proceeded to take their orders and quietly left the room.  
  
"Now that's a lot of woman!" exclaimed Fred to the nodding agreements of Remus, Mr. Weasley, and George.  
  
"Why does she call you two 'boys?' She's no older than you two." Ginny asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.  
  
"Well, she was caught up in a prank gone somewhat awry," said Fred.  
  
"Amounique was in our shop right after we accidentally tested a new product on Lee. We call it 'Love Sticks' and it sticks two people together in a relatively, erm, comfortable position for a couple of hours," added George with a wicked grin.  
  
"We didn't mean to give it to him, but he swallowed it before we could stop him. Then she approached him about a product, and well, the 'Love Sticks' work."  
  
"They spent the entire afternoon stuck together, and Lee, well, Lee was smitten," said Fred.  
  
"She thought it was pretty funny, but refuses to take us seriously. But we're trying to get her to work for us, well, work with Lee at the Diagon Alley shop, so that we can open a store in Hogsmeade."  
  
"Really?" asked Hermione. "You have enough business to open a store in Hogsmeade as well? That's amazing."  
  
"Business is really good," George said enthusiastically. "We have taken on a dozen employees to make everything once we come up with the original idea and they can't move fast enough. We hope to hire another dozen at the beginning of the school year, after recent graduates are done relaxing."  
  
"Yeah," added Fred. "Plus, we want to be close to you all next year. We figure you'll need some guidance in constructive rule breaking that we couldn't complete since we had to leave Hogwarts so unexpectedly."  
  
"Excellent!" said Harry and Ron simultaneously.  
  
Amounique returned at that point, trays of food floating behind her as she brought in the first course. Salads and soups floated to their proper places, and the room became quiet as everyone quickly dove in to the food in front of them.  
  
As they were eating, Mr. Weasley looked over at Harry, obviously trying to figure out how to begin a conversation that he had been thinking about all day.  
  
"Harry, I need to ask you about something," he said, tentatively. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to answer the question."  
  
"Sure Mr. Weasley, you know I'll do my best to answer anything you ask me."  
  
"Well, I was wondering. It was a little odd that Dumbledore insisted that the Ministry make a payment to Sirius' estate for his unjust imprisonment. Don't get me wrong, I think it is deserved, but since Sirius is gone, and Dumbledore knows you don't need the money, why did he insist, and why such a large sum?"  
  
The table had quieted as Harry and Mr. Weasley were talking. Obviously this was a question of great interest to all those gathered.  
  
"Well, there's a few reasons," Harry started. "First, it's an embarrassment to Fudge. It's not like the Ministry has unlimited resources, this will have a big impact on his budget for the next year or so. Second, it's a reminder to the Ministry that there are certain rules that must be abided by, even for the Ministry. Sirius was sentenced without a trial, and presumed guilty when he was innocent. It's not enough to just pardon Sirius. Third, it's a visible message. It would be easy for Fudge to just pardon Sirius, it wouldn't impact anyone really. But I guarantee that one of tomorrow's headlines will be 'Ministry pays to repair name of Sirius Black' or something along those lines. It reinforces the message that Sirius was innocent."  
  
"I see," Mr. Weasley said. "I guess that makes sense. But I sense that there's more."  
  
"I won't lie, sir," responded Harry. "But I can't tell you everything, yet. You'll understand soon enough. I promise."  
  
Arthur gave Harry a long speculative look. He could sense that Harry was hiding something significant from him. Arthur shrugged and decided it would be less difficult to wait until Harry was ready to tell him more. Though he would feel free to speculate to his heart's content. The speculative look he often saw Harry giving him disquieted him for some reason, he couldn't quite pinpoint, but somehow Arthur knew that Harry's grand plan was going to impact his life to a large extent.  
  
Deciding there was nothing he could do about it, he heartily dug into his meal, only occasionally looking up to see his wife giving him and Harry the same speculative look that he had been giving Harry. Chuckling to himself, he realized that nothing would ever slip past the watchful eyes of Molly Weasley.  
  
As desert was being finished, a flash of light flared at the corner of the room. Fawkes had appeared, with a note tied to his leg. Strutting over to Mrs. Weasley, she quickly untied the note, a small ripple of tension flitting through the room.  
  
"Oh, excellent!" she cried. "We must hurry back to Headquarters. Dumbledore wrote to tell you he has your O.W.L. results. He'd been saving them for after today's events were concluded and just arrived at Headquarters himself. We must get going."  
  
Ron groaned with dread. He did not relish the thought of opening his results in front of an audience and certainly didn't want to share them with anyone until he knew what they were.  
  
"Couldn't Dumbledore have waited until after Harry's trial?" he moaned. Hermione poked him roughly in the ribs, trying to shush him.  
  
"Honestly Ron, we need to know our results so we can start planning our courses for next term, as well as start reading for our lessons and getting prepared for term."  
  
"Hermione, it's summer, why do we have to study? Don't we deserve a bit of a break? Last year was horrid, it's not too much to ask for two months off."  
  
"It's not like you study all that hard during the year, Ron," Ginny added, grinning. "Why would it be so bad to maybe open up a book sometime in the next four weeks?"  
  
"Thank you Ginny!" said Hermione, brightly. "Now, we'll be taking different courses, but some of them should certainly be the same, don't you think? We can start there. Of course, we need to find our results and go to Diagon Alley for our supplies."  
  
"Okay Herms, okay," interrupted Harry. "But first, let's get back to Headquarters and find out our results. Not that I'm really anxious for that since I'm not really thrilled with the idea of driving with those two maniacs."  
  
Fred and George were busy paying the bill and trying to get Amounique to laugh. She had put on a determined face, and was resisting their outrageous behavior, but Harry saw she was struggling with the need to laugh. Hearing his comment, she looked over and quickly walked towards him.  
  
"Well, Mr. Potter, we can give you access to our fireplace if you want to Floo home. Is it connected to the Floo Network?"  
  
"Erm, actually it is blocked, but I can have my house elf open it up for us for tonight. That should be safe, shouldn't it?" he asked Remus.  
  
"Certainly Harry. I'll apparate there and tell Dobby and Dumbledore what you're doing. See you in a few minutes."  
  
With a crack he disappeared. They followed Amounique to the restaurant's fireplace which employees obviously used to arrive and leave. Tossing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace Harry put his head in the flames and checked to see if it was clear.  
  
"Mr. Harry Potter sir, Dobby has freed up the fireplace, you and your friends can come in now." The loyal house elf was pleased to help Harry, as always.  
  
"Thanks Dobby. Could you and Winky do me another favor? Could you set up the large room with comfortable chairs and as much butterbeer as we've got? We're getting our exam results and I think we'll need to celebrate one way or the other."  
  
"Of course Mr. Harry Potter sir. Of course. Dobby and Winky will see to it right away."  
  
Pulling his head out of the flames, Harry explained that the Floo was unblocked, and he threw a handful of powder into the flames and promptly disappeared. Gradually everyone followed him leaving Fred and George alone with Amounique.  
  
"We'll be taking the car, so I think we're done here. Please consider our offer. And Lee would really like you to think about it, he'd enjoy working with you." Fred said this with a straight face, and George was impressed. While they were usually irrepressible in their mirth and pranks, when it came to helping friends or family, no one could be more dedicated than Fred and George. Of course they usually made up for it by playing even more outrageous pranks, but the twins decided that was part of their charm.  
  
***  
  
Arriving back at number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry quickly brushed himself off and went into the large sitting room. Dobby and Winky had quickly worked to get the room ready, and Harry was pleased with their efforts. There were plenty of chairs for everyone and several buckets of ice with cold butterbeer sitting in them. Sighing in nervous anticipation he started pacing back and forth, waiting for everyone else to arrive.  
  
Ron and Hermione walked into the room, absentmindedly brushing soot off each other's robes. Hermione was grinning with anticipation, eager to learn the results of her exams. Ron was nervous with dread. Worried about his scores, and not eager to see his mother's reaction to what he expected were perfectly abysmal results.  
  
Professor Dumbledore entered in from the kitchen at the same time as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked in with Ginny. Grinning at his anxious students, he nodded to them, his bright blue eyes twinkling.  
  
"Good evening. I hope you had a pleasant meal, Fawkes tells me that the young Misters Weasley took you to a very fine establishment. I do hope that you don't mind that I delayed the distribution of your O.W.L. results until this evening. I was preoccupied with those trials and wanted to be able to deliver your results personally. The other students will be getting their scores this evening as well, though by post owl."  
  
"Oh, well, thank you Professor," said Hermione. "I'll admit I was starting to get anxious since we were supposed to receive our results at the end of July, but since you have them, well, that's okay.  
  
"Erm, can we have them," she asked nervously. "I mean, if that's all right with you, that is."  
  
Smiling, Dumbledore handed an envelope to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, but cautioned them not to open them yet.  
  
"Before you open them, I want you to understand two things. First, I am completely confident that these scores are entirely accurate. No influence was placed on these scores by my replacement, and no influence was placed by myself once I received the results. Every score you received is accurate and reflects the effort you put into the tests. Second, while I will admit that I would have liked to see some of these scores a bit higher, I am very pleased with your results. Now, please, open them."  
  
No one moved. Hermione looked fearful, especially after listening to Dumbledore's speech. She was terrified that her scores were too low, and he seemed to indicate that this was a possibility. Frozen with fear, she just looked down at her envelope, playing with it in her hands.  
  
Ron was similarly lost in terror. He knew he should have studied harder, knew he should have paid more attention to Hermione's schedule. This was going to be terrible. He thought longingly about his hopes to become an Auror, which he was certain would be dashed by these test scores. Maybe he could work with his Dad at the Ministry. Working with Muggles seemed kind of fun, laid back for the most part, and it would be a respectable job, he guessed. Twiddling his fingers around the edge of the envelope he couldn't stand the thought of opening his envelope.  
  
Harry was watching his friends, and realized that he had to make the first move. Squaring his shoulders against the inevitable, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the parchment.  
  
Harry James Potter  
Care of Albus Dumbledore  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland  
  
Mr. Potter:  
  
Congratulations. You have completed your Ordinary Wizarding Level  
exams. Your results are as follows:  
  
Astronomy - Acceptable  
Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding  
Charms - Theory - Outstanding  
Charms - Practical - Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Theory - Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Practical - Outstanding  
Divination - Poor  
Herbology - Acceptable  
History of Magic - Dreadful  
Potions - Theory - Exceeds Expectations  
Potions - Practical - Outstanding  
Transfiguration - Theory - Exceeds Expectations  
Transfiguration - Practical - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Congratulations, you have received a total of 9 O.W.L.'s.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Griselda Marchbanks  
  
After Harry read his scores nervously out loud, Hermione tore in to her envelope.  
  
Hermione Granger  
Care of Albus Dumbledore  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland  
  
Ms. Granger:  
  
Congratulations. You have completed your Ordinary Wizarding Level  
exams. Your results are as follows:  
  
Arithmancy - Outstanding  
Astronomy - Outstanding  
Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding  
Charms - Theory - Outstanding  
Charms - Practical - Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Theory - Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Practical - Outstanding  
Herbology - Outstanding  
History of Magic - Outstanding  
Muggle Studies - Outstanding  
Potions - Theory - Outstanding  
Potions - Practical - Outstanding  
Transfiguration - Theory - Outstanding  
Transfiguration - Practical - Outstanding  
  
Congratulations, you have received a total of 14 O.W.L.'s. This is  
the highest score ever achieved by a witch or wizard.  
Congratulations.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Griselda Marchbanks  
  
Grimacing with pain, Ron weakly opened his envelope, closing one eye to spare him from the complete pain of his results.  
  
Ronald Weasley  
Care of Albus Dumbledore  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Scotland  
  
Mr. Weasley:  
  
Congratulations. You have completed your Ordinary Wizarding Level  
exams. Your results are as follows:  
  
Astronomy - Acceptable  
Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding  
Charms - Theory - Exceeds Expectations  
Charms - Practical - Exceeds Expectations  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Theory - Outstanding  
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Practical - Outstanding  
Divination - Poor  
Herbology - Exceeds Expectations  
History of Magic - Acceptable  
Potions - Theory - Exceeds Expectations  
Potions - Practical - Exceeds Expectations  
Transfiguration - Theory - Exceeds Expectations  
Transfiguration - Practical - Exceeds Expectations  
  
Congratulations, you have received a total of 10 O.W.L.'s.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Griselda Marchbanks  
  
Ron fell to the ground in shock. He couldn't believe it. This was a prank, a cruel joke. Looking up at the shocked faces on his family he cast his eyes about for Fred and George.  
  
"Very funny, hilarious. Now where are my real results?" he demanded angrily. "I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore, I don't know how the twins switched envelopes on you. Do you think you could owl the Ministry for my real results?"  
  
"I assure you, Mr. Weasley, that those are your results. As are Mr. Potter's and Ms. Granger's. I don't think any of us are surprised by Ms. Granger's results though. Superb. Excellent job, all three of you. I honestly could not be more pleased. Of course, I do wish you two had done better in History of Magic, but even I can admit that Professor Binns makes me nod off at times as well."  
  
"Oh Ronniekins, I knew it, I knew you had it in you!" Mrs. Weasley grabbed him in a massive hug and started dancing around the room with him. Mr. Weasley joined in and hugged his son adding his congratulations. Worming his way out, he grabbed Harry by the shoulder.  
  
"Good job, mate. Looks like Hermione rubbed off on both of us."  
  
"Careful Ron, that's how rumors get started," said Ginny with a perfectly straight face.  
  
Harry stared at her, not sure if she realized the implications of what she was saying, intrigued at the thought that she probably did. Ron paused and blushed, looking angrily at his sister. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, picked up a bottle of butterbeer and sat down on a couch.  
  
Hermione was still staring at her parchment, shocked to the core at her perfect results. Harry and Ron reached out to her and drew her into a hug.  
  
"Congratulations! We did it, we made it!" they said.  
  
"Hermione, a perfect score. No one has ever got such a high score. Not even Dumbledore," said Ron.  
  
When Dumbledore cleared his throat, the trio turned to look at his joyous face. He was obviously thrilled for the results of his students.  
  
"But wait a minute, Hermione," Harry said. "When did you have time to take the Muggle Studies O.W.L.? You didn't take the course, how did you have time?"  
  
"Well," she said blushing. "I did a lot of reading of the required texts and thought it would be worth taking the exam. This way my options aren't limited. I mean, my parents are muggles, I was raised a muggle until starting at Hogwarts, so I know all about muggles. It wasn't that hard to prepare for that exam."  
  
"Oh right," said Ron sarcastically. "Just another endless exam trying to cram in everything you know onto as many pieces of parchment as you can get your hands on. Honestly, you never cease to amaze me. Only you could take an exam on a subject you aren't in and get a higher score than students in the class for four years got. You are amazing!"  
  
"You're not so bad yourself, Ronald. Ten O.W.L.'s is nothing to sneeze at, though you certainly could have done better on your History exam. Only an 'Acceptable,' I can't believe it. You know how important that is."  
  
"Hey," Ron interrupted. "I did better than Harry, he got a 'Dreadful!'"  
  
"Yeah," muttered Harry. "But of course I was busy receiving a vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius at the time, so you'd think that would be an acceptable excuse."  
  
"Oh, right, sorry."  
  
"Forget it, it's not like I would have done much better anyway. You know we just make up names of the trolls and the examiners would have probably figured that out."  
  
"Well," said Professor Dumbledore. "My work here is done. Congratulations you three. I am very proud of you. Enjoy your celebration. I will see you tomorrow for our final trial. I will be pleased when this that is over."  
  
"Professor, I promise it will be a trial no one will ever forget," said Harry.  
  
"I know that Harry. I know. We will long remember the trial of the Ministry vs. Harry Potter." 


	10. The Ministry versus Harry Potter

Chapter Ten – The Ministry vs. Harry Potter  
  
The next morning Harry walked into the courtroom pleased that it was completely filled with witches and wizards. Dumbledore had subtly expanded the size of the room so there were probably three hundred more people in the room than it would usually hold. As Harry walked though the doors the murmuring of the crowd stopped for a moment, taking in his appearance.  
  
Harry had planned this day down to the minutiae of what he was wearing, and what his friends were wearing. Harry had purchased new robes for himself, Hermione, Remus, and the Weasley family. It all comported with his plan.  
  
Harry's robe was a finely crafted silken black robe. The black fabric seemed to glow with light, setting an eerie reflection around Harry. The cuffs were stitched in gold thread, adding certain elegance to the robe. On the back was the golden head of a Gryffin. Harry wanted everyone to remember that he was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, the house noted for the bravery of its students. But what was truly spectacular about the image on his back was that it moved. Every few minutes a slithering snake with red eyes with v-shaped markings would appear and the massive jaw of the Gryffin would snap down on the snake and bite its head off. Harry thought this was a perfect reminder of his history, his present, and his future. He, Harry, was the living symbol of the wizarding world's ability to fight evil. His robe demonstrated that with dramatic visual effect that should not be lost on any of those gathered in the courtroom.  
  
The Weasley family members were wearing well-designed robes in various warm shades of brown and cream. Harry had insisted on purchasing the robes and picking out the colors. The women were wearing two subtly different cream colored robes that helped accentuate the red hair both had. Ron and Mr. Weasley were wearing a deep brown that reminded Harry of a very healthy tree at the park he worked at over the summer. The twins were wearing identical tan robes that accentuated their freckles. Hermione was wearing a green robe that blended very well with Ron's robe, and as they walked so closely together that they looked like a living bush. Finally Remus was wearing splendid purple robes that were hued along the lines of ancient nobility. Harry was particularly pleased with the effect this had on Remus, it made him look like an emperor or ancient king.  
  
Looking around the courtroom, Harry started to panic. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was not there. His entire strategy, his entire plan on this day rested on the presumption that Fudge would be there to try to imprison Harry. As his panic started growing into fear, Dumbledore entered the courtroom.  
  
"I call this courtroom into session for the matter of the Ministry versus Harry Potter. I see that the defendant is present, but I do not see an official from the Ministry that intends to prosecute this case. Has anyone seen Minister Fudge?"  
  
The momentary silence was followed by fierce whispering throughout the room. Ron leaned over triumphantly to Hermione and whispered in her ear.  
  
"We've won then, if Fudge doesn't show up, the charges have to be dropped. No one else will prosecute him."  
  
Nodding her head, Hermione looked thoughtfully at Harry. He was obviously distressed at this turn of events, and she wanted to know why. He should be grateful that he was going to be cleared, again. But he was concerned. Hermione couldn't fathom why he was so upset.  
  
Suddenly the door to the courtroom was slammed open, revealing Percy Weasley standing in the middle of the doorway in his formal robes. Striding pompously to the middle of the courtroom floor, he lifted his head as if speaking to the ceiling.  
  
"Witches and Wizards, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."  
  
Percy started solemnly applauding the entrance of the Minister. Fudge had obviously given his attire as much thought as had Harry and he was dressed in impeccably designed robes. Every inch of his clothing spoke of the majesty and power of the Ministry, and the presumption that such majesty should fall upon the Minister himself. Walking in with an arrogance that reminded Harry strongly of Lucius Malfoy, Harry was pleased to see that only a small portion of the audience had joined Percy's clapping. Harry could also see that most of those that were clapping were doing so mostly out of confusion than any real desire to welcome the Minister.  
  
"Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic." Fudge said, announcing himself to the courtroom. "I will be representing the Ministry's interests, and the wizarding world's interests, in this matter."  
  
Dumbledore eyed him without expression. "I think we all know who you are Cornelius. The pomp is certainly a new affectation. I doubt it is necessary. However, you may proceed."  
  
"Excellent. I call upon Percy Weasley to take the stand."  
  
Percy came down and eagerly swallowed his dose of Veritaserum. His eyes shown with a fervor for power and need for respect that made Harry feel very uncomfortable. This was not going to be a good day, by the end, for young Percy. Harry only hoped that it would not sever Percy's ability to think for himself when it was all over.  
  
"Thank you for testifying today," Fudge said. "Please describe the events in question from your point of view."  
  
"Certainly Minister Fudge." Percy was fawning in his attempt to ingratiate himself with Fudge. It made Harry sick. "I will do what I can for the truth. It was early evening and we had just learned of a diabolical attack by Deatheaters on Azkaban prison. You wisely ordered Aurors and other wizards to the scene to secure the prison, but you also asked a few of us to remain behind in case the prison was not the only planned attack. As we were monitoring the magical battle, we realized that there was another magical battle taking place at number 4, Privet Drive."  
  
"The Dursley residence, where Mr. Potter was residing?" asked Fudge.  
  
"Yes. You have ordered us to monitor that location quite closely. I attempted to enter the Magical Law Enforcement office, but was delayed by Madam Bones' deputy. It was not until I showed them your order that I be allowed in that they relented.  
  
"There, I was able to watch Harry Potter cast numerous spells, of various complexity and savagery. He transfigured something into a dagger, and he cast many spells of dubious nature, curses, hexes, jinxes. All throughout his neighborhood which is a Muggle village no less.  
  
"Then, suddenly, he stopped. There was no magic for a while. After some time had passed he started using simple cleaning spells and repairing spells. Obviously trying to hide what he had done. Covering up his tracks, I suppose.  
  
"Once we were certain that the attack on Azkaban was not a feint and that there would not be a separate attack on the Ministry, we proceeded to Little Whinging, Surrey, to apprehend Mr. Potter and bring him in to custody. When we arrived we found Molly Weasley in the process of obliviating the Muggles, even though she does not have the proper Ministry training to do that. She attempted to prevent our arrest of Mr. Potter. We tried to stun her to prevent her from interfering and Mr. Potter jumped in front of the spell. The next thing I remember is waking up in St. Mungo's."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. No further questions." Turning with a grin on his face he scowled at Harry. "Your witness."  
  
"Percy," began Harry.  
  
"I would prefer it if you were to call me Mr. Weasley," Percy said snappishly.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Harry counted to ten before continuing. "Fine. Mr. Weasley, when you were observing me did you notice that I was in a battle for my life with Voldemort's Deatheaters?"  
  
Percy paled at hearing Harry so casually mention Voldemort's name.  
  
"No, the charms don't record use of magic for all wizards, just underage magic. It would be impossible to track all uses of magic."  
  
"Ok, so you saw me summon the whistle, transfigure a mirror, and cast a stunning spell. It never occurred to you that I might be under attack? That I might be in danger?"  
  
"We didn't know which spells you were casting at first, Madam Bones wouldn't let us into her office."  
  
"Ok, Percy. Sorry, Mr. Weasley. But when you did get into her office, what spells did you see me cast?"  
  
"We saw a variety of spells. Stunners, curses, hexes, and jinxes. A flagrant display of magic in front of all those Muggles."  
  
"And did it never occur to you that there might be a reason for it? You never once thought, well, Voldemort is back, he's tried to get Harry a few times, maybe Harry's in trouble?"  
  
"No. I thought that you were displaying your power to demonstrate your superiority over the Muggles."  
  
"And what would make you think such a thing? When have I ever demonstrated a desire to flaunt my power over others?"  
  
Harry was surprised by the momentary look of triumph he saw flashing in Fudge's eyes, and by the fleeting glimpse of panic in Dumbledore's eyes. While he understood how foolish Fudge was being by thinking this was a victory, Harry was confused by Dumbledore's reaction. Didn't his headmaster understand that Harry needed Fudge to be overconfident? Didn't Dumbledore understand that Harry wanted the whole world to understand all of his run-ins with evil while at Hogwarts? Only by showing what had happened through the eyes of his enemies, even such pathetic enemies as Fudge and Percy, would the wizarding world truly understand what they were facing, and how incompetent the current Ministry was in dealing with the situation. Hoping Dumbledore would figure out Harry's strategy, he pressed on.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, could you give the court an example of this supposed behavior? We're waiting."  
  
Thrilled with the opportunity, Percy started by describing the exploits from Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Harry allowed the monologue to continue without interruption as Percy described what he knew of Harry's desperate attempt to save the Sorcerer's stone from Voldemort's clutches. While Percy obviously didn't know all of the details, they were accurate enough for Harry to let any inconsistencies slide by.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure how this is a demonstration of my desire to flaunt my power over others, Mr. Weasley. But I do have a question for you. If I, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger hadn't prevented Professor Quirrel from obtaining the Sorcerer's Stone, what would have happened? Wouldn't he have used it to give Voldemort immortality and unlimited gold?"  
  
"We only have your word for it. How do we know that Lord-Thingy," he said uncomfortably, "was there? We only have your word for it"  
  
"Well, we can have Professor Dumbledore verify that Quirrel was being controlled by Voldemort, if necessary. But let's just stipulate that it is true. What would have happened? Quirrel would have given him the Stone and Voldemort would have gained immortality. Would that have been a good result? Should I have just sat back and watched it happen?"  
  
"You should have contacted a professor or a prefect."  
  
"So you think that because I didn't contact one of those people, I was seeking attention. I wasn't trying to save the Stone and protect Hogwarts?"  
  
"But you killed him. You should be in Azkaban!" Percy was getting desperate now.  
  
"Yes, I killed him. I regret that, somewhat. He was trying to kill me. Should I have just sat there and get murdered? Would that be less attention seeking?"  
  
Percy was spluttering now.  
  
"But let's move on," continued Harry, relentlessly. "Any other examples?"  
  
Stupidly, Percy obliged. He started describing the events of Harry's second year. This time his explanation was a bit more accurate, until he described when Harry and Ron entered the Chamber. Harry interrupted.  
  
"You are forgetting something, Mr. Weasley. Ron and I tried to approach a Professor. We asked Professor Lockhart, but he was going to perform a Memory Charm on us. He would have let your sister die, and again Voldemort would have returned to life. But we kept Lockhart from harming us and then we went into the Chamber."  
  
"You should never have gone down there without more help, but you wanted the glory, the attention."  
  
"Are you really this stupid?" asked Harry coldly. "Your sister's life was at stake. We had no idea how much longer Ginny would be alive. Dumbledore was gone and we couldn't trust anyone to do the right thing. We had to move quickly. And I was the only Parseltongue, so it was up to me. We went down, saved your sister, and defeated Voldemort again. What's wrong with that? Should we have let Ginny die? Should we have let Voldemort get resurrected?"  
  
Percy stared at him wordlessly, confusion finally entering his head.  
  
"I didn't think so. Now, let's go on, any more examples of my glory seeking? Perhaps you'd like to recount my fourth year for the Court?"  
  
Shaking his head, finally realizing that he was not helping Minister Fudge, Percy refused to divulge his thoughts. Harry knew he was winning, so he forced Percy to talk.  
  
"Your honor, I demand that Mr. Weasley tell us his view of my exploits during my fourth year. I have reason to believe that he thinks my participation in the TriWizard Championship was another attempt to make me more famous."  
  
Dumbledore had finally realized where Harry was going with this and grimly ordered Percy to testify. Looking with panicked eyes at Fudge, Percy continued. Since the Veritaserum was still working he had to tell the truth that he perceived. He described how Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, how Harry managed to beat the dragon, save Ron and the others from the lake, and the events in the maze up until Harry and Cedric's disappearance. He then described how Harry had returned, clutching Cedric's body, as if that was a crime in and of itself.  
  
"But didn't we learn that Barty Crouch was masquerading as Professor Moody, and it was his responsibility for putting my name in the Goblet and making me a Champion? And what was I supposed to do when I was in it, deliberately lose? How is it wrong for me to do my best? And didn't I try to avoid attention, only to get dragged into things by Ludo Bagman, and yourself?  
  
"Again, when Cedric and I were brought to the graveyard, what was I supposed to do? Wormtail killed Cedric right away, neither of us had a chance to react. After Voldemort was restored to a body, and I fought him off, I had to bring Cedric's body back. Wasn't that the right thing to do? Cedric's parents were grateful that I did that. Is the Ministry upset that I tried to honor Cedric's memory? Should I have allowed Voldemort or his Deatheaters to kill me because I would have garnered less attention as another casualty on his list?"  
  
"No!" shouted Percy. "But you are twisting everything around. It wasn't like that. You are spinning everything to make you look okay, make you look like a hero."  
  
"No, I'm just telling it as I see it. I never set out to do those things. They happened to me and I responded. I'm sorry it doesn't fit into your neat little world of politics and order, but sometimes bad things happen and good people need to respond."  
  
Turning to Dumbledore, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "No more questions."  
  
Fudge was absolutely livid. When Percy meekly walked over to him, Fudge was whispering savagely, his hands moving rapidly and his face was bright red from suppressed anger. Dumbledore cleared his throat a few times, trying to get Fudge's attention. When that failed he clapped his hands together, magically amplifying the noise to break through Fudge's tirade.  
  
Obviously distressed, Fudge snapped his head up and glared at Dumbledore. Taking a moment to regain his footing, Fudge finally shot a malicious glare at Harry.  
  
"I call Petunia Dursley to the stand."  
  
Murmured whisperings fluttered throughout the courtroom. Dumbledore's eyes flashed with anger, but he glanced at Harry. Harry looked thoughtfully at Dumbledore and sadly nodded his head. While Harry had certainly anticipated this, he did not relish this situation.  
  
Aunt Petunia entered the courtroom, her nose turned up in disgust at being in the presence of so many magical people. She glared at Harry, her eyes accusing him for forcing her into this situation.  
  
"Mrs. Dursley, you are Harry's guardian, are you not?" Fudge began his questioning.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you are a Muggle? A non-magical person," he added for her benefit.  
  
"If you mean I'm not a freak like all of you, yes."  
  
"So, you are a Muggle," he said quickly, trying to deflect her ire. "Has Mr. Potter ever performed any magic on you or your family?"  
  
"Yes, the little brat has."  
  
Fudge asked her to explain the instances of Harry's use of magic on his family. Dumbledore quickly interrupted.  
  
"Mr. Potter, you are allowed to object. This testimony would not be relevant to the matter at hand." Turning to Fudge, he continued. "As you are aware Cornelius, this trial is only pertinent to the events of August 1, not every incident of Harry's use or misuse of magic."  
  
"No," interjected Harry. "I'll allow it. I have no objection to my Aunt telling the Court how much she hates me and my magic."  
  
Fudge had obviously not thought this through very carefully, otherwise he would not have asked Petunia Dursley to testify. She was likely to add to the sympathy factor for Harry. But it was too late to stop now.  
  
Petunia started by describing every incident that had happened from the time that Harry had been placed in her care. She knew each incident by heart and was able to recite them all. Her anger and venom increased as she catalogued each event, her disgust for magic obvious to everyone in the room, including Fudge.  
  
"Erm, thank you. You have laid out a clear pattern of Harry's misconduct as it pertains to his ability to control and use magic. No more questions."  
  
Harry wasn't sure where to start, what he wanted to gain from her testimony, so he started with the attack first.  
  
"Aunt Petunia, could you tell me what happened on the evening of August 1st?"  
  
"We were home eating dinner, thankfully without you, and suddenly our house was enveloped in a bright light. We knew it had to do with your kind, so we were naturally afraid for our lives. I went to the window and saw six of your kind aiming pieces of wood at our home. Bright lights show out of their wood and hit the glowing light. The beams from the wood reflected and hit the neighbors, the cars out front, the road, everywhere.  
  
"They were shouting for you to come out, and then one of them was dragging Mrs. Figg out to our front yard. Suddenly the one holding Mrs. Figg dropped to the ground, another disappeared, and all pandemonium broke out. Mrs. Figg came flying toward you, and they started chasing you. You ran, they chased, two disappeared and reappeared. You went out of my sight, but I heard loud cracks and bursts of noise. We could see strange and eerie lights, and then the sounds stopped.  
  
"After a while I saw that red-haired woman going from neighbor to neighbor, and they foolishly let her in. Then another gang of your foul kind showed up. You had a confrontation and they pointed their sticks at that woman. Bright beams of light shot out from each of them and you jumped in front of it. The beams shot back and you fell to the ground. Then even more of your kind showed up, and then you all quickly disappeared."  
  
Aunt Petunia's testimony might have pleased Harry if she hadn't snarled the entire time.  
  
"Thank you Aunt Petunia. Tell me, what do you think of magic? Of people that use magic?"  
  
"It's disgusting. You are all freaks and unnatural. You should be put down like vermin. You all think you are so powerful and important, but it's not normal."  
  
Petunia ignored the gasps and muttered outrage floating across the courtroom. Even Fudge seemed to find this to be an offensive statement.  
  
"Ok, and one last question. Did you try to prevent me from learning I was a wizard? Did you want to keep me from becoming magical?"  
  
"Yes, we tried to stamp it out from the day you arrived. You know we didn't want you to be like Lily, we never wanted you to learn about your abnormality. But we couldn't stop it. He made it impossible, him and that huge freak of his." She glared accusingly at Dumbledore who shook his head sadly. While he knew how much hatred Petunia had for magic, Dumbledore didn't realize the extent that her hatred ran. He felt another wave of sorrow wash over him, and regret for abandoning Harry to her care so many years ago.  
  
"Thank you, Aunt Petunia. No more questions."  
  
Aunt Petunia quickly left the room and the whispering in the courtroom was full of anger and disgust. Fudge, realizing that he was losing control of his case decided to cut his losses.  
  
"I have no more witnesses at this time. But I do reserve the right to call rebuttal witnesses to any of the lies this boy may force upon this court."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes flashed with anger and he half stood, prepared to defend Harry's honor. But Harry was prepared.  
  
"Your honor, I have only one witness. I did not inform him that I would call him, but the Court will understand that he should already be prepared to testify."  
  
"Alright Harry, who would you like to call?" Dumbledore knew, of course, but was fully capable of adding to the drama of the moment.  
  
"It is simple. I call the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."  
  
Harry was certain that there could not be an ounce of oxygen left in the room after the simultaneous gasps throughout the courtroom sucked in every last bit of air. The sound was deafening and the shocked look on everyone's faces was worth savoring. Harry momentarily wished he had a Pensieve so that he could replay that moment over and over again.  
  
Fudge was equally shocked, but a look of cunning came over his face. Curtly nodding to Percy, he marched to the witness stand and took his seat. Glaring at Harry he smiled smugly.  
  
"I suspect that you will insist that I take a dose of Veritaserum?"  
  
"No," replied Harry. "You are the Minister of Magic. If we cannot rely on your being truthful, well, what can we rely on?"  
  
Harry could tell that Fudge was surprised. Little did Fudge know that Harry's line of questioning was bound to reveal the truth as Fudge saw it, without the need of any truth serum.  
  
"Now, let's begin. After the events at Hogwarts during my first year, did you believe that Voldemort was again active and seeking a return to his body?"  
  
"No, it was a story cooked up by you and Dumbledore. He wanted my office and you wanted the attention, the glory."  
  
"Can you explain Professor Quirrel's death?"  
  
"No. But I have no proof that he is deceased. He may be hiding or just missing."  
  
"Okay. How about during my second year. When it was proven that Tom Riddle's diary was responsible for controlling a student there, for immobilizing the students, for opening the Chamber of Secrets, did you think that maybe Voldemort was trying to come back?"  
  
"No. I thought Hagrid had opened up the Chamber again, and that you were using your Dark gift to gain attention and seek glory."  
  
"Ok. During my third year, when you placed Dementors to protect Hogwarts, why did you do that?"  
  
"Sirius Black had escaped, and we thought he was going to try to kill you, to try to avenge his master."  
  
"But that wasn't true was it? Sirius did escape, but he was trying to protect me from Pettigrew. He was innocent, wasn't he?"  
  
"I didn't know that at the time," Fudge said petulantly. "But yes Sirius was innocent of the murder of those Muggles, but he is probably guilty of other crimes."  
  
"Unnamed crimes without proof?" interrupted Dumbledore. "I would think that the Minister of Magic would be more careful with his accusations."  
  
Fudge just scowled at him.  
  
"Fine Minister, let's move on to my fourth year. When I returned with Cedric's body, and explained how Voldemort had returned, what did you think?"  
  
"I thought you were making up another fanciful story, or perhaps that you had been tricked into thinking that. We all knew He was dead, and you were just seeking more attention, or trying to come up with a good story about how Cedric died."  
  
"And the fact that Barty Crouch Jr. was pretending to be Alastor Moody? It was a coincidence that one of Voldemort's strongest supporters just happened to be there?"  
  
"I thought he was responsible for everything, for Cedric, for you being in the Championship. He obviously was trying to regain some of his power despite the fact that Lord- Thingy was dead."  
  
"Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort." Each time Harry shouted the name Fudge flinched. Harry sighed but continued.  
  
"And why did you have the Dementor Kiss him? Why not get as much information out of him first?"  
  
"He had already escaped Azkaban, he was a powerful wizard, and my life was in jeopardy."  
  
"Despite the fact that Albus Dumbledore, the world's most powerful wizard, had stunned him? You really believed that Crouch would be able to attack you?"  
  
"Yes. Who else would he go after, but the Minister of Magic?"  
  
"You certainly think a lot of your position, sir. But let's move on. Over that summer, you knew I said that Voldemort returned. It was confirmed for you by Albus Dumbledore. And yet you persisted in believing that Voldemort hadn't returned. Why?"  
  
"I thought it was a plot by you and Dumbledore to destabilize the Ministry, take my job. That's all you wanted."  
  
"So despite Cedric's death, despite the disappearance of Bertha Jenkins, despite Barty Crouch Jr., despite the prison break at Azkaban, despite it all, you thought it was just a simple ruse by a wizard who had already refused the job and a teenage boy? That's relatively pathetic, Minister.  
  
"But let's move on. You saw for your own eyes that Voldemort had indeed returned. You saw him right after Albus Dumbledore had defeated him, just before he disappeared with Bellatrix Lestrange. Correct?"  
  
"Yes," Fudge replied sullenly.  
  
"So, you knew that Voldemort was back. You knew, or should have known, that I was his primary target. Dumbledore told you that I was his main focus. But instead of trying to protect me, instead of using the Ministry's resources to make sure I was safe, you ignored the threat to my life. Shouldn't the Ministry have tried to protect me?"  
  
"Why?" sneered Fudge. "You are just one person. The Ministry had to protect the entire wizarding world, not focus on just one boy."  
  
"True, and I never asked for your protection. But instead of offering me protection, or ignoring me altogether, you spent precious resources, assigned scarce staff to determine if I was using magic, but never stopped to think about why I might have been using magic."  
  
"Well, I knew you were central to his plot, so I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything to call attention to yourself. Plus, Dumbledore said you were protected."  
  
"Right," Harry's voice was laced with sarcasm. "You assigned Percy and half a dozen of your lackeys to see if I was doing magic. Then, when they saw that I was, they waited until the coast was clear before doing anything about it. It was hours, Minister. Hours between my first spell and when they showed up. That seems a little suspicious to me."  
  
"You don't understand. Dumbledore is just using you as a pawn. He wants to be Minister, you are just a symbol that he's using to bring him to power."  
  
"Minister, I don't know what is worse. The fact that you think this to be true, or the fact that you fear this is true."  
  
Turning sadly to Dumbledore, Harry looked up at his headmaster.  
  
"Your honor, I have no more questions. I rest my case."  
  
"Minister Fudge, do you have any more witnesses? No? Then you are allowed a closing argument."  
  
Fudge looked around the courtroom. He was still aware enough of his political skills to recognize the hostile crowd, but he seemingly couldn't control his anger and animosity towards Harry and Dumbledore.  
  
"I do not much to say other than this. Harry has conceded his guilt. He admits to using magic outside of school when he clearly had alternatives. The laws are set for specific reasons, and no amount of histrionics or hysterical assumptions make the facts go away. Harry did not need to use his magic, and he must be punished. The law is clear."  
  
"Harry," said Dumbledore. "Any closing statement?"  
  
This was finally the moment Harry had prepared for. Certainly Fudge had helped set the stage for what Harry was about to do. Oddly, Harry felt no anxiety, no tremors of nervousness. Standing before the Court he took in a deep breath.  
  
"Your Honor, Members of the Wizengamot, witches and wizards. These are momentous days. Dark and oppressive days. We face a great and rising evil that threatens to destroy us all. But we must stand firm, and we must stand strong, else we lose our way of life, and our very lives.  
  
"The rule of law is important, I recognize that and admit that we all must strive to obey the maxims of the law to their fullest extent. Did I commit the crimes for which I am today accused? An important question, it must be answered here in full.  
  
"My answer is simple: Yes.  
  
"I knowingly and purposefully broke the law prohibiting the use of magic by an underage wizard. I had been warned in the past, broken the law in the past. I knew the consequences for my actions, and willingly, eagerly violated the law.  
  
"But I should not be punished for it. The law clearly states that it is allowable to use magic in a life-threatening situation. Granted my life was not immediately in danger, but Arabella Figg's was. I had no other choice.  
  
"So I ask the Wizengamot to refute these ridiculous charges, and to clear my name. I am confident that you will do so."  
  
Harry was reassured by the near unanimous nodding of heads from the court, and the audience.  
  
"But I have another request," he continued. "One that I am loath to make, but it has become apparent that it is needed. There is a provision in Wizard law, a provision unused for a long time, centuries to be exact, but is still in effect and still binding.  
  
"It is clear that I am here, standing accused before this Court, on spurious charges, on flawed reasoning, and for dubious motives. It is clear that the wizarding world faces a great danger, one that the Ministry is failing to respond to in any meaningful way. We must act now before it is too late, or we will lose in the fight against evil. We will lose to Voldemort.  
  
"I stand before you as an accused wizard, accused by no less than the Minister of Magic himself. I hereby invoke Merlin's Writ."  
  
Fudge jumped from his chair, red faced with anger, spit flying out of his mouth.  
  
"Preposterous! This is unheard of, it is unacceptable. You arrogant child, you are so clearly Dumbledore's pawn. I knew this was all a plot to remove me from power. Aurors, I order you to take Harry into custody and remove him from this courtroom. Immediately."  
  
As the few Aurors who chose to obey moved towards Harry they found themselves suddenly unable to take another step.  
  
"I forbid this!" shouted Amelia Bones, her wand waving dangerously in the air. "The witness has the right to invoke Merlin's Writ. You do not have the right to intervene, Cornelius. The Wizengamot alone will make this decision. Aurors, Minister Fudge's authority is suspended. You will stand down."  
  
The Aurors who had moved towards Harry nodded their heads feebly and Madam Bones released them from her spell.  
  
Turning towards Dumbledore, Madam Bones shook her head.  
  
"Chief Warlock, Merlin's Writ has been invoked. Do you agree that the conditions have been met?"  
  
Dumbledore slowly nodded his head, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.  
  
Nodding her head in return, Madam Bones turned to Fudge.  
  
"Minister of Magic, Merlin's Writ has been invoked. Do you agree that the conditions have been met?"  
  
"No!" shouted Fudge. "This boy doesn't know what he is doing. He has been prepped by Dumbledore to destroy the Ministry. They want my power, nothing less."  
  
"Minister, the reasons do not matter. Merlin's Writ has been invoked. The Chief Warlock certifies that the conditions have been met. I too certify that the conditions have been met. You have no choice."  
  
Ron leaned over to Hermione and whispered an urgent question into her ear.  
  
"What is Merlin's Writ? What's going on?"  
  
"It's almost unheard of, it hasn't been used in centuries. Basically, a witch or wizard who is being prosecuted by the Minister of Magic can invoke Merlin's Writ."  
  
"That's obvious, Hermione," Ron whispered sarcastically, "but what does that mean?"  
  
"Well, Harry is challenging Fudge's right to be Minister. He's basically saying that this prosecution is politically motivated and that it is illegitimate. It forces an immediate convocation of the heads of department of the Ministry, and the Chief Warlock. If they agree that Harry is right, the Minister is removed from office and a vacancy declared."  
  
"So then we have elections?" asked Ginny.  
  
"No, that's why it's so unheard of. The accuser, Harry, gets to nominate a new Minister of Magic. The heads of department and the Chief Warlock have to agree. If they don't, then there's an election."  
  
"So Harry will get to pick the new Minister? Wicked," said Ron, grinning with anticipation. They returned their attention to Harry and Fudge.  
  
"Minister, I'm sorry," Harry said, with no regret in his voice. "But you are unstable and unsuited for the position in these times. You have focused on maintaining your power at the expense of the truth. You have avoided being honest with the people and instead tried to protect your friends and financial contributors. You allowed a known Deatheater intimate access to the Ministry, and you refused to accept that Voldemort had returned. Costing a full year of preparation, of recruiting allies to our cause, of training new Aurors, to fight the evil.  
  
"You have accused me, needlessly, of crimes that were mere technicalities. Your flunkies knew I was being attacked, knew I was in danger, but tried to preserve your power base, tried to avoid any real conflict with desperately evil wizards.  
  
"You have kept your head in the sand for too long, at too great a price. Even now Aurors are at St. Mungo's, recovering from wounds that need never be inflicted if you had removed the Dementors from Azkaban. Even now we are unaware of what Voldemort is doing because you failed to recruit spies. Even now beings who might have helped us, Giants, centaurs, more, are either aligning against us or refusing to aid us due to your obsession with mastery over non-humans.  
  
"You were a competent leader, if frivolous, during the relative peace. But we can not afford to keep you on during a time of war."  
  
Looking up at the Court, at the heads of the Ministry's departments, Harry continued.  
  
"I know this is an unusual situation. Merlin's Writ has never been successfully invoked. It failed the previous times, as it should have. But it is different now. I stand before you unjustly accused. I stand before you as a symbol of what happens when evil reigns. I charge you, in the name of the safety of the entire world, wizard and Muggle alike, to invoke Merlin's Writ so that we can protect the world."  
  
Fudge opened his mouth as if to respond, but Madam Bones quickly cast a silencing charm on him.  
  
"Minister, the law, though ancient, is clear. You do not have the right to respond. Your actions, your history, your leadership must speak for itself. A decision must now be reached."  
  
Turning to her colleagues, she addressed them one by one. Calling on each department, she asked them the same questions.  
  
"Do you agree to invoke Merlin's Writ? Do you agree to remove the Minister of Magic?"  
  
As she made her way down the list, each Department head answered with the same response. She finally reached Dumbledore.  
  
"Chief Warlock, the heads of department are unanimous. What say you? Do you agree to invoke Merlin's Writ? Do you agree to remove the Minister of Magic?"  
  
Dumbledore looked sadly down at Minister Fudge, knowing this would create an enemy for life.  
  
"Yes, I concur with the heads of department. Merlin's Writ is invoked. I agree to remove the Minister of Magic."  
  
Silence greeted his words, an ominous silence that stunned the entire courtroom.  
  
Madam Bones looked down at her former boss with no emotion evident on her face or in her voice. "Cornelius Fudge, Merlin's Writ has been invoked. The heads of department and the Chief Warlock are unanimous, as is required by this ancient law. You are hereby removed from the office of the Minister of Magic. You have our thanks for your service."  
  
"You foul boy! You senile old fool!" Fudge was fuming at both Harry and Dumbledore. "You will regret this. You will regret this for the rest of your lives. I knew you wanted my office, Dumbledore. I knew it. Well, boy, get on with it. Make your coup complete. Name Dumbledore as my replacement, come on."  
  
Harry looked sadly at the former Minister.  
  
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You don't understand. This isn't about you. It isn't about me, or Dumbledore. It's about protecting the world. Professor Dumbledore doesn't want it, if he did he'd already be the Minister. No, it will be someone else."  
  
"Then who?" asked Madam Bones, shock crossing her face. She had naturally assumed that Dumbledore would be Harry's choice. That it wasn't going to be Dumbledore confused her, as well as the rest of the audience.  
  
"My choice is simple, and obvious, really. But first you need to be aware of a few things. When Voldemort rose to power the first time, there was a group of people who knew him for the evil that he was. Professor Dumbledore saw Voldemort's rise, and made preparations to protect the world. He gathered a group of extraordinary witches and wizards and they banded together to protect us, to prepare for the coming of evil. Dumbledore called them the Order of the Phoenix. My parents were part of it, which is why Voldemort targeted them. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, the Longbottoms, Alastor Moody, and many, many others. They did what they could, working with the Ministry when possible, without the Ministry's involvement when necessary. They saved many lives, and no one knew of their sacrifices, their heroism.  
  
"When Voldemort was destroyed by me, after killing my parents, the Ministry relaxed. They reduced the number of Aurors, they stopped concentrating on finding and punishing the Dark wizards. The world became complacent. We forgot what evil was like, how dreadful it was, how ruthless. But Professor Dumbledore didn't forget, and neither did the Order. They watched, they waited, and they remained prepared.  
  
"Now Voldemort is back. At first no one believed me, except Professor Dumbledore. He knew it was true. And the Order believed him, and they then believed me. The Order slowly made plans, preparations, and precautions. They helped protect me, they helped protect us all. They have made sacrifices, been attacked, and risked their lives time and time again to save the world from Voldemort's evil.  
  
"Now you may be wondering why I am revealing the Order's existence when Professor Dumbledore has avoided questions about it in the past. It is necessary that all of these heroes receive their full recognition, and it is important that you understand what they have done. The new Minister of Magic must be prepared to fight evil and defeat it. The Order has been devoted to that cause for longer than I've been alive. It only makes sense to call on the Order to provide us with a new Minister.  
  
"But who do we ask? Professor Dumbledore has already said no. Were I to name him now he would never forgive me and probably refuse to serve. But there are many other capable witches and wizards in the Order, most would be a preferable leader over the former Minister. So what do we need in a Minister at this time?  
  
"We need someone who knows how to deal with conflict. No offense, but the heads of department can often act like unruly children."  
  
"We know who it is, don't we?" asked Fred.  
  
"We need someone who understands the importance of humility. What better candidate that one who has toiled for years in the depths of the Ministry?"  
  
"I think so," replied George.  
  
"We need someone who understands the importance of diplomacy. What better candidate than a man who must deal with a famously temperamentally wife?  
  
"Sweet Merlin," Ron whispered. "Is Harry insane?"  
  
"We need a someone who understand the importance of our relationship with other races, including Muggles. This evil confronts the whole world, and the whole world must be protected."  
  
"He must be," breathed Ginny, stunned at what Harry was proposing.  
  
"We need someone who knows both the Ministry and the Order. There is only one individual who meets that description. Only one wizard who has the ability to change the Ministry, work with the Order, and only one wizard with the generosity of spirit to protect the entire world.  
  
"I think he's incredibly smart," said Hermione. "It makes tremendous sense."  
  
"He is a noble man, but often misunderstood. He is a powerful man, but in things that others may not respect. He is a man of deep love for his family, for his friends, for an orphaned boy that he treats like a son."  
  
"I think I'll kill him," said Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Harry turned to look directly at the Weasley family. His eyes were shining with purpose and his voice was calm and collected. He knew, with an absolute certainty, that what he was doing was the right thing.  
  
"We need Arthur Weasley to be the next Minister of Magic."  
  
***  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Thanks, as always for the reviews, glad folks are enjoying it.  
  
David305 – Thanks for the lengthy review, you have some good points, but here's my thinking on why Harry didn't need to testify for Wormtail's trial. First, the charges were focused on the death of the muggles he killed and framed Sirius for, not necessarily for Cedric's murder. Second, since Harry had already testified about the events at the graveyard under Veritaserum during Malfoy's trial, Dumbledore allowed it into the record. Third, who says that the wizarding world has to follow all of our procedural rules? But your points are valid. Harry's trial is the last one I plan to write, so we won't have to face this again. I think.  
  
I had a vigorous debate with my Beta about the scores on the OWLS, so I am pleased to see that I was right and she was wrong. (However she was more than persuasive, so made me write what I have there). Fortunately she now owes me a case of butterbeer. Now we just need to figure out where to get it from.  
  
Oh, and of course everyone was gracious in their thanks to the twins, but I was more interested in the waitress to talk about it. Don't forget, just because it's not written down doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Otherwise Harry and all would explode since I never bring them to the bathroom.  
  
Some have emailed me a concern about the scores as being too high. I disagree. I'm not trying to make Harry and Ron out as superheroes, but in my experience people under pressure score better than they think. And don't forget Hermione's influence. I swear I would never have passed calculus if I didn't study for days with my best friend. He was (and still is) amazingly intelligent and it rubbed off enough for me to pass the finals. I, of course, promptly forgot every bit of what I crammed into my head as soon as I walked out of the classroom, but I still managed to get an A, which would not have been possible the day before, or after, I took the test.  
  
Hope you enjoy this. There may be a delay for the next chapter, but we're just not thrilled with how it's flowing. We'll see. I'm trying to stick to every Friday as my post date. 


	11. The Minister of Magic

Chapter Eleven – The Minister of Magic  
  
"Not if I get to him first," Mr. Weasley whispered back to his wife. "He obviously hit his head on something."  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband, gauging his reaction. His features had quickly paled and the shocked look on his face spoke volumes. Obviously Harry hadn't consulted Arthur before springing this on him, and just as obviously, Harry had been planning this for a long time.  
  
"This is what he meant, the little bugger," Mr. Weasley whispered to himself. "Why didn't I see it? Oh, what are we going to do?"  
  
The courtroom was silent. Harry had finished his speech, made his decision, and now it was up to the heads of the departments at the Ministry of Magic. It was an odd law, a bizarre precedent, but it was entirely legally binding. The Ministry heads could accept or reject Harry's choice, but they had to vote. According to Merlin's Writ, his appointed candidate, Arthur Weasley, was not allowed to speak. He could neither promote himself nor ask to be rejected. He was merely allowed to accept his fate. Harry had neatly trapped this usually self-effacing man in a neat corner.  
  
Dumbledore looked fondly over at Arthur Weasley, his eyes twinkling. "Merlin's Writ has been invoked, a vacancy for Minister declared, and a candidate announced. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot I find no flaw with Harry Potter's reasoning. We need a different type of Minister, one that will help us win this war and restore order to our world. Arthur Weasley is one of the finest wizards I know. He is a dedicated man with an enormous sense of responsibility. He is devoted to his wife and family. He has a respect for all types of beings on this world, magic and Muggle, human and others. His leadership and varied strengths are exactly what we need at this time. I accept the decision of the Boy Who Lived and I confirm that it is a wise choice indeed. I vote aye."  
  
Stunned at Dumbledore's strong support, Mr. Weasley half stood, trying to find the words to object. He couldn't figure out what to say, how to stop this absurd series of events. They couldn't seriously be thinking about agreeing with Harry's deluded request, could they? Mr. Weasley thought that they'd get a good laugh that young Harry had nominated his best friend's father, and then they'd move on. But Dumbledore was taking this seriously. Had everybody taken a crazy pill today except him?  
  
Madam Bones looked fondly over at Arthur. Her eyes were dancing between him and his wife. Looking at the two of them, and their close knit family surrounding them, she turned her head to look at Dumbledore and then looked down at Harry. Madam Bones knew all about this remarkable young wizard, stronghold against evil for his entire life, and realized that he was not a mere child any longer. He may still be young, and he may still need training and guidance, support, and love, most of all he would need love, but while she pondered her decision and stared thoughtfully at the Boy Who Lived, Madam Bones realized that Harry had made a deeply insightful decision. Wishing that young Harry didn't understand what he had done, but accepting the likelihood that he did indeed contemplate the entirety of his actions, Madam Bones nodded her head.  
  
"Dumbledore is correct. The Boy Who Lived has chosen well. Arthur Weasley is a fine man, a worthy man, and he represents the best of what we all should strive to be. We need a leader who will bring us together, a leader who will help us through these terrible times. We need a symbol of the importance of our struggle, a symbol that will bring us through this awful war. I agree with the Chief Warlock. And I agree with the Boy Who Lived. I vote aye!"  
  
Arthur fell back into his seat. The entire world had gone mad. Obviously there was something wrong in the courtroom, perhaps a curse or a spell or maybe a potion? He wasn't sure, but he was now firmly convinced that there was a terrible enchantment cast upon this room. Perhaps he was only dreaming? Didn't most people have weird dreams, terrible dreams, during times of strife and stress? Yes, that was it. As another head of department stood up, his own boss, Arthur quickly grabbed his wrist and pinched as hard as he could.  
  
"Ow!" he exclaimed to himself, embarrassed at realizing he was not asleep.  
  
"What's wrong Arthur?" his wife asked, her voice emanating concern.  
  
"Nothing, erm, I just pinched myself to see if this was a bad dream," he said with the famous Weasley blush creeping up his face. "But the spell must be very effective because I felt it. I guess I just have to wait until I wake up."  
  
"Don't be silly! You know this is real," Molly said, a small smile appearing on her face. "Harry has been planning this for a while, and obviously Dumbledore was in on it. Like it or not Mr. Arthur Weasley, it appears that you will be the next Minister."  
  
"But this is insane. I mean, that's my boss, standing there telling us how he thinks it's important for me to be HIS boss. This is absurd."  
  
"Shush," she whispered. "I know we didn't expect it, but who else would Harry trust? More importantly, who else would WE trust? Bones? She's too stodgy and by the rules. Bagman? Please. Who else? There's no one. Fudge didn't want heads that would challenge him, and they know that. Despite the fact that they have let themselves be bullied by Fudge and that awful Umbridge woman, those are good, decent people up there Arthur Weasley. They know that they are not up to this task. None of them could lead us in this war. We need a strong, competent, caring, thoughtful leader. Who else would you let do this, if it isn't you?"  
  
The Weasley family was an affectionate one. Displays of emotion, from love to anger, were always evident, and always strong. Molly's voice was filled with love, respect, and pride for her husband. They had lived a wonderful life together. They had raised, or were still raising, seven wonderful children who were all healthy and actively involved in the world. Despite Percy's shortcomings, they still loved him. Their marriage was strong and healthy, and their love for each other undiminished by the years that had passed since their own time at Hogwarts. And they felt a strong sense of duty, of obligation, to the world. When Dumbledore had asked them to join the Order, they immediately obliged. Despite the risks, despite the sacrifices, they worked tirelessly to defeat evil, and make the world safe.  
  
Until now their contributions to the cause were unrecognized, and they were fine with that. But Harry had changed that. This wounded young man that they had immediately accepted into their home, into their family, saw the strength of the Weasley family, and sought to let the rest of the world know what he saw.  
  
As head after head stood and accepted Harry's choice, it became clear that the decision would be unanimous. Looking up at Dumbledore, Harry motioned to the ancient wizard.  
  
"Could we get Bill and Charlie here, sir?" he asked. "I think they should be with their father when this is decided."  
  
"I've already contacted them, Harry. They should be here by the time the last head votes. Congratulations, by the way, you've done a good thing today."  
  
"Thank you sir," Harry blushed, "but it's just the beginning. We have a lot to do still. I just hope Mr. and Mrs. Weasley can forgive me. Their lives will be very different now. I should have told them."  
  
"I disagree, Harry. If you had told Arthur he would have tried to persuade you not to do this. He is a very humble man, and would not have seen the need for this. I believe even now Molly is persuading him to accept this for the reasons you stated. He is the best man for the job, and the Ministry needs him. I think he'll come around."  
  
Finally the last head stood up. It was a witch Harry did not know and she did not introduce herself or what Department she headed.  
  
"I do not know Arthur Weasley very well, but I do not care. I do not know Albus Dumbledore that well, but I do not care. I do not know Harry Potter at all, but I do not care. However, I do know evil, I know it well, and thus I DO care.  
  
"Fudge was an incompetent meddler who was justifiably removed from office. But I fear it may be too late, though I hope it is not. The Ministry has failed to secure the peace, or prepare the world to fight this evil. It is right and it is just that we replace an incompetent Minister with a new one. I accept the decision of my peers, but more importantly, as one who has been dealt a savage blow by evil, I repeat the call of the Boy Who Lived as my charge to the new Minister.  
  
"Remember Cedric Diggory and the innocents who have fallen! I vote aye!"  
  
A moment of silence surrounded the hushed crowd as they realized that the vote was unanimous. Suddenly a tremendous roar rushed through the courtroom, the sound bouncing off the walls as the approval of the decision was made clear. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Bill and Charlie cautiously enter the room, stunned by the noise. Dumbledore had obviously told them what was happening when he contacted them because they both waved their approval to Harry and quickly made their way to sit with their family.  
  
Dumbledore stood, silencing the crowd, and motioned to Arthur. Nervously Arthur Weasley walked down to the courtroom floor, standing close to Harry, who was looking up at him with a tremendous grin.  
  
"Arthur Weasley, Merlin's Writ has been invoked. The seat of the Minister of Magic is vacant. You have been approved by the Ministry department heads and the Chief Warlock as the new Minister. Do you accept this decision? Will you serve?"  
  
A slow flush crept along Arthur's face. Nodding his head, his voice carrying the slightest hint of nervousness and tension, Arthur spoke.  
  
"I accept the decision. I will serve. I will be the Minister of Magic"  
  
The courtroom exploded in noise again, and Arthur almost fell to his knees. Only Harry's quick reflexes saved the new Minister of Magic from falling to the ground. Grabbing the older man by his shoulders, Harry propped him up.  
  
"Careful there, Minister. We can't have the new Minister embarrass himself before he gets sworn in. You have your position to think about."  
  
Offering Harry a bemused scowl, Arthur regained his footing. "I only have this position to think about because of you, I'll have you recall. Don't worry, Molly and I will find a way to get you for this."  
  
He ended with an ominous tone that made Harry force himself to laugh nervously. He was aware that George and Fred got their devious nature from somewhere, and Harry realized that it was likely that the twins were amateurs next to their parents.  
  
As the roars of approval died down, Arthur made his way up to where Dumbledore was standing. Dumbledore motioned to the Weasley family to join them. As Molly and their children made their way over to where Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley stood, Harry walked over to Percy where he sat, dejected, with the stunned Cornelius Fudge.  
  
"Percy, get up there you stupid git."  
  
"Sod off, they won't want me up there."  
  
"Don't be a fool. Yes, your brothers and sister are mad at you, and your mum and dad are very hurt, but you are still part of the family. If you want to be, that is."  
  
Percy was a proud person, and Harry felt the defensive shell pop up around Percy. Knowing that he had to lance the boil of Percy's anger and pain before the entire Weasley family could heal, Harry dug in.  
  
"Look Percy, you were wrong, but that's tough. It happens. You sided with Fudge versus your family, which is awful, but not unforgivable. You were more worried about your position and your power than the truth, it's unfortunate but not a crime. You tried to drive a wedge between Ron and me, that is much harder to forgive, but we can forgive you, if you change. You didn't visit when your father was attacked by Voldemort, I don't know your thoughts behind that, but even that can be forgiven, somehow. You haven't spoken to your sister or brothers, or your parents, in a year; you are wrong to do that and you need to grow up. Of course there is anger and resentment, of course they are mad at you, but they still love you.  
  
"Maybe you feel wronged, I don't know. You were doing your job, and you wanted to believe the Minister. But you did it all the wrong way. You put yourself first, before the truth, before your family, and you refused to listen to the truth. You made a bad choice and you were wrong, time and time again. So apologize, admit to yourself that Fudge was wrong, that you were wrong. Admit that it doesn't really matter, so long as we defeat Voldemort."  
  
"You don't understand," seethed Percy. "They'll think I was a fool. They'll laugh at me."  
  
"You are right. I don't understand. I don't know what it is like to have parents who weep for me when I mess up. I don't understand what it is like to have brothers who love me so much they want to pound me every time I make a bad decision. I don't understand what it is like to have a sister who wants to beat me senseless for hurting my parents. That life was taken from me, and I can never get it back. But you still have it, if you want it. Your parents, your brothers, your sister, they all love you, unconditionally. They may be angry with you, they may be mad at you, disappointed in you, but they do love you. And they always will.  
  
"But you are wrong as well. I DO understand what it is like to be laughed at. I DO understand what it is like to be mocked. You won't be treated that way by them, if you recognize your failures for what they are, if you change. You were wrong, horribly so, dangerously so, but you have a chance to redeem yourself. Apologize to your parents, your brothers, and your sister. Demonstrate that you understand that you were wrong, and work to improve your understanding of the world.  
  
"You and Fudge, and that hag Umbridge, you all live in the world of gray. You avoid the hard truth because it is inconvenient, because it interferes with your view of the world. But sometimes the world really is black or white. Right now, in this awful time you are either with us or against us, there is no in between. Voldemort certainly won't let you stay neutral.  
  
"We don't have time for your devotion to proper procedure, we don't have time for bureaucratic process, we must act and react, prevent and deter, or we will lose and more will die."  
  
Percy was near to bursting. A confusing blend of emotions swirled through his mind, anger, pain, jealously, embarrassment, shame, loathing, and worse. He couldn't contain the agony that the jumble of emotions was causing him. Tears streaming down his cheeks he looked up at Harry with anguish on his face.  
  
"Tell them I'm sorry," he gasped. "Tell them, please, tell them I'm sorry."  
  
Percy ran from the courtroom, his hands pressed up against his face, covering the evidence of his tears. He did this without causing much commotion, but Harry glanced up to see a flash of pain cross Mr. Weasley's face. Deeply disturbed by Percy's inability to see that his family loved him, worried that Percy perhaps didn't fully understand how wrong he was about the generosity of the Weasley family, Harry sighed with frustration.  
  
As the Weasley family, minus Percy, gathered around Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore quieted the room with a wave of his hand.  
  
"Arthur Weasley you have been called to serve by the Ministry of Magic. Do you swear to uphold the laws? Defend the world? Protect magic? Do you vow to uphold these vows to the utmost of your abilities and serve well and faithfully as the Minister of Magic?"  
  
"I swear," replied Arthur.  
  
"Then the conditions have been met. Congratulations. Wizards and Witches, I give you the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley."  
  
Again the crowd erupted with approval. Cheers and whistles echoed throughout the chamber as Molly Weasley grabbed her husband in a firm embrace and gave him a short, chaste kiss. Gradually they let go of each other and each of his children hugged their father. As the applause died down, the Minister of Magic quickly cast a spell on his throat so his voice would be heard throughout the room. He looked out across the room, but he was obviously addressing the Ministry officials and workers he would now lead.  
  
"Thank you, thank you for that approval. I hope to truly earn it someday. I obviously have not planned for this, so I have little to say at this point. Obviously I appreciate the support given me by the heads of the Ministry, and the Chief Warlock, and I look forward to working with them all. But I must say that I will be planning some significant changes to the Ministry, and we can not afford to deal with outdated rivalries or rule- bound hysterics. There will need to be changes to law, changes to rules, and changes to practice. I will rely on all of you to support these needed changes, and I will not be offended should you decide to leave the Ministry as a result of what we will need to do, though I ask for your help and support.  
  
"We are at war with Voldemort and his evil followers. We can choose to react to his attacks, wait until he shows himself again, or we can bring the war to him. I will not sit idly by as our friends and neighbors sit in fear of potential attacks. I will not wait for the terrible sighting of a green cloud hanging over a home before I react to the threat. This time of terror, this time of fear, must end. Together we will change the Ministry and save the world.  
  
"A terrible burden has been laid down upon me. I did not seek this position, I did not choose it for myself. But I accept the task, I will bear the yoke, and I will do my best. We fight now for our way of life, and our very lives. Let the Ministry stand once again for truth and justice and let the dark forces gathered against us tremble at our terrible wrath!"  
  
***  
  
After the Minister of Magic made his speech and the cheering had stopped, Arthur Weasley and his family were mobbed by well wishers and Ministry officials. Arthur quickly found himself in the middle of several conversations as different people congratulated him and tried to set up appointments to meet with him. As the courtroom slowly emptied, Harry allowed himself to be swept to the opposite side of the room with the crowd. Struggling to get away from the wave of people exiting the room, he sat down in an empty chair. As he watched the small crowd of people surrounding the Weasley family bobble around for attention, a figure stepped in front of him, blocking his view.  
  
Harry looked up at the wizard in front of him and saw the pale and gaunt features of Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. Harry flinched as the memory of Cedric flashed in his head and he quickly averted his eyes from the man's face.  
  
"Good afternoon, Harry." Mr. Diggory's voice was deep, but very calm. However, it was vary quiet, and Harry strained to hear him above the noise of the crowds. "That was remarkable. Arthur is a fine man, I think he will do a good job."  
  
"Thank you sir," Harry said awkwardly. He wasn't really sure how to talk with this man. Harry still felt the tremendous burden of causing Cedric's death, and he was sure that Mr. Diggory would also share that feeling.  
  
"Your speech the other day, at the end of Malfoy's trial," Mr. Diggory continued. "What made you say that? Why did you bring up my son's name?"  
  
Harry stared up at the man, not knowing how to respond. He couldn't tell if Mr. Diggory was upset or truly interested. Taking a breath, he stared just beyond Mr. Diggory, refusing to maintain eye contact as he talked.  
  
"I am really not sure. It just felt right. I guess, well, to be honest, I still feel guilty about that night. Cedric was, well, he was a friend I guess. We weren't close or anything, but he helped me with the egg after I helped him with the dragons. When we both reached the goblet, he refused to take it, even though he should have. He earned it. But he insisted that it was mine, so we shared it. If I hadn't done that, well..."  
  
"If you hadn't done that," interrupted Mr. Diggory, "he would have been taken alone and my son would have been killed by that monster and we would never have known why or how. Cedric would have disappeared and we would never have known what happened."  
  
"Well, erm, I guess. But maybe the portkey was linked to me though, and only because I was there did Cedric get pulled along."  
  
"That's nonsense. Portkeys can be set for specific times, or to be activated by touch, but I've never heard of anything like that. It was meant to be. Don't question that, don't live with that guilt. It's Voldemort's fault, not yours."  
  
Harry was stunned. Outside of the Order, and Madam Bones, he had never heard a witch or wizard say that name without flinching or stuttering. Seeing the calm fury that Mr. Diggory contained at that name, Harry offered him a small smile.  
  
"Thanks, I guess. It's hard though, I still feel guilty, and responsible for everything. But to answer your question, well, I figured I owed Cedric that much. He wasn't really the first victim of Voldemort's rebirth, that would really be Bertha, but he was the first one we all knew about. The first victim we all saw. He is a hero and everyone needs to remember that. It proves to the world that Voldemort is evil, I mean Cedric was innocent, and accidentally there, and they killed him so casually. Without warning even. And his spirit, well, it helped me, it gave me a firm resolve to get back. I mean, I wanted to live, but more importantly I had to return, to give you his, well, I had to return him to you. I promised."  
  
Tears welled up in Mr. Diggory's eyes, tears that he found himself consistently fighting every day since that dreadful day last June. For a long time he blamed Harry, then Dumbledore. Over the past year he found himself hating the two of them, the two who had caused him and his wife so much pain. But then the bizarre events in the world cause him to see that there was more going on than could be explained by the Ministry, especially the breakout at Azkaban, the break-ins at the Ministry, and finally the attack at the Ministry that revealed that Voldemort was alive and had regained his power. Diggory knew then that Potter and Dumbledore were right, and that his anger was misplaced. He shouldn't be angry at those two he should be angry at Voldemort, and Fudge.  
  
A year since his son had died and the Ministry did nothing. It was as if Cedric's sacrifice meant nothing to the Ministry, to the world. But Harry had changed that. In one quick motion, Harry had turned Cedric from a tragic victim to a hero. Harry had struck a savage blow to Voldemort by breaking Malfoy's wand with the cry to remember Cedric. The new Minister of Magic was approved with the call to remember Cedric. Nothing would ever take away the pain, nothing would ever fully heal the Diggory family, but this would help. Knowing his son's death was not in vain and would serve as a rallying cry to oppose this evil, only that would help Amos Diggory move on and heal.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered to Harry. "You have no idea how much that means to me. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to call on me, or my wife. Anything at all."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Harry replied. "I will remember that. I will remember Cedric's sacrifice forever."  
  
Nodding his head, Amos Diggory quietly exited the courtroom, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Harry sat back down, relieved that his conversation with Mr. Diggory had gone well. He silently pondered the pain that he knew the man had been through over the past year, and sighed. He was quickly brought of his reverie as another shadow crossed his face.  
  
"Always the hero, Potter?" It was a voice he recognized. The snarl was unmistakable and Harry slowly reached for his wand. "Now you've put the pauper in charge of the Ministry? The Dark Lord will win faster than he ever thought possible."  
  
"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry asked of his classmate. "Why aren't you home with your father?"  
  
Draco's eyes flashed at Harry's insult. The moment his father's sentence had been issued, Ministry officials had sealed off all of the family vaults, put wards over their estate and other homes, and forced him and his mother to live with some distant cousin that Draco didn't know or care to associate with. The noble Malfoy family had been upturned overnight by this freakish boy in front of him, and Draco was intent on making him pay.  
  
"You'll get yours, Potter," he snarled. "Some day soon you'll get it, and I'll be there to gloat."  
  
"I doubt I'll ever be visiting Azkaban," Harry said. "But when you are finally sent there to rot, maybe I will visit you. Perhaps you can gloat then."  
  
Harry calmly stood up, glaring at his hated nemesis. Harry pulled out one half of the wand that he had broken at Lucius' trial and casually twiddled it in his hand.  
  
"Say hello to your father," he said with a smile. "Remind him when he has his magic taken away from him that I said hello. Maybe, if he's lucky, the Minister will give him a job sweeping floors. Or should we ask Professor Dumbledore to get Mr. Filch to take on an assistant?"  
  
As Draco stood spluttering, Harry turned his back on him and left the courtroom. Not wanting to be attacked from behind by the enraged menace behind him, Harry quickly made his way out of the Ministry to the streets above him.  
  
Deciding that it was an entirely beautiful day, he quickly removed his robes to look more like a Muggle and folded it across his arm. Putting his wand safely in reach in his pocket, Harry casually walked down the street in the late afternoon sun, and enjoyed a long and leisurely walk back to number 12 Grimmauld Place.  
  
Once there, Harry decided to put the rest of the day to good use and went up to the library. He had realized that there was a lot he needed to know if he was going to continue to D.A. in September, and decided to lay out a plan of action. 'Constant vigilance' he thought to himself as he made his way up the stairwell.  
  
***  
  
"Harry James Potter!"  
  
Several hours later Mrs. Weasley's voice was echoing through the entire house at number 12 Grimmauld Place as she entered after an exhausting afternoon at the Ministry. "Show yourself immediately, or I'll have the Minister of Magic issue a warrant for your arrest."  
  
"Now, now, Molly, calm down. I thought we were agreed?" Mr. Weasley tried to calm his wife down, but was fully aware that it would be easier to calm down a rampaging hippogriff.  
  
"HARRY POTTER! GET OUT HERE NOW!"  
  
Gulping nervously, Harry slowly crept down the stairs. He had heard Mrs. Weasley outside the house before she came in and knew he was in deep trouble. Stepping into the entryway he offered a weak smile to the angry woman and the bemused Minister of Magic.  
  
"Erm, hello. Can I help you Mrs. Weasley?"  
  
"HARRY POTTER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT YOU'VE DONE TODAY? THE POSITION YOU'VE PUT US IN? WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK ME, OR ARTHUR, BEFORE YOU DID THIS?"  
  
"Molly, please," interrupted Mr. Weasley. "I thought we agreed that Harry's explanation today was good enough. I didn't have to accept this, but I thought you were fine with this. After all you prompted me to accept it."  
  
"Of course I'm fine with the decision, Arthur," she snapped. "But that doesn't give Harry the right to escape a firm lecture about responsibility. What right did he have to do this without asking you, or me?"  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, if I may, please let me explain," Harry begged. He hadn't anticipated that she would still be angry, so he was desperate to calm her down. "I couldn't tell you ahead of time for several reasons. First, I never knew if we were entirely safe to talk. I only told Dumbledore once, when we were at a muggle restaurant and Dumbledore put up his own protection charms. We couldn't risk word getting back to Fudge, because then he wouldn't have charged me himself, and I couldn't have invoked Merlin's Writ.  
  
"Second, well, I thought it would be more genuine if Mr. Weasley didn't know ahead of time. He couldn't have been more shocked and it was obviously news to him, and you too, Mrs. Weasley. This way no one could accuse you of being part of the 'coup' or whatever they want to call it.  
  
"Third, well, it was a gift. A bizarre and burdensome one, but a gift nonetheless. I wanted it to be a surprise. You two, your whole family, has done so much for me, I wanted to return the favor. I can't really offer much, other than my gold. So I offered you a chance to improve the world. I know you don't want power, that you'd probably prefer that I had given this to someone else, but I had no choice. I couldn't trust anyone else with that responsibility.  
  
"I'm sorry it was a surprise. And I'm sorry I did this to you. I know it will be a burden. I know it will be more work and strife and toil than you would have ever wanted, but we need you to do this. Once you've changed the Ministry," he said, addressing Mr. Weasley, "if we can find a decent candidate to run the place, you can step down. In fact, it might be an idea for you to call yourself an interim Minister, so that people don't think you are making changes for your own power, but to improve the Ministry.  
  
"But, I did what I had to do. I'm sorry if it upset you-"  
  
Harry was cut off as he was enveloped in a massive hug from Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"You silly young man," she said, her eyes glistening with pride. "Never say anything so foolish again. You offer us more than power or gold every day we have known you. You offer us yourself. We are honored to have you in our lives, and I am proud that you have seen the strength in Arthur that I have seen since the first day that I met him."  
  
Harry was struggling to breathe and amazed at how quickly Mrs. Weasley's mood had changed.  
  
"I'm not angry with you," she continued. "In fact I'm so proud my heart could burst. I just wanted to make sure you know to keep us informed in the future if you have any further grand plans. Especially since I'm married to the Minister of Magic. He's an awfully important man, you know."  
  
"I know," murmured Harry into Mrs. Weasley's arms. "I know. You are all so wonderful. I am sorry I did this to you."  
  
"Enough!" said Mr. Weasley, sniffling as he wiped his eyes. "Upon decree from the Minister of Magic, it's time to eat. You managed to escape the courtroom pretty easily, young man, but I was bombarded by everyone. I put them all off until tomorrow, for my first meeting with the full Ministry, but it still took me several hours to get out of there. What have you been doing since then?"  
  
"I came back here and studied some of Sirius' books, erm, I guess I mean Hermione's. I still have to figure out what I'm going to do with the D.A. back at school and I wanted to lay out a series of things to learn. I just hope it doesn't interfere with whatever the new DADA professor wants to do. Speaking of which, do you know who that will be? Dumbledore wouldn't tell me."  
  
"Why," Mr. Weasley said with a mischievous smile on his face, "I do believe that I know who that will be. Molly, you know as well, if I'm correct?"  
  
"Yes I do, Minister," Mrs. Weasley said with a matching grin. "But we can't tell anyone here, you never know who might be listening. Now if only Professor Dumbledore were here to provide us with some protection charms, we'd be free to tell you. I guess you'll have to wait. We want your reaction to be, what did he say?"  
  
"Genuine, I believe it was," Mr. Weasley said with a laugh.  
  
"Alright, I get it, point taken," Harry said, joining in the laughter. "I give up. Don't tell me, I'll learn with the others."  
  
"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Mrs. Weasley. "The famously temperamental wife of the Minister of Magic needs to see about dinner."  
  
Harry paled when Mrs. Weasley reminded him of his words from the courtroom. Of course Harry hadn't intended to say it just that way, but he had gotten caught up in the moment and let that description out. Laughing, very pleased with his panicked look, Mrs. Weasley excused herself to the kitchen so she could help Dobby and Winky prepare dinner.  
  
"Where is everyone else?" Harry asked. "I slipped out so I could get away from everyone, I would have thought everyone would have been right behind me."  
  
"Well, Fred and George decided it would be helpful to me to clean out my new office. They went up with Bill, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione and started shoving all of Fudge's personal possessions into boxes and sent them to his residence. I imagine they are still at it. Of course, I'll probably have to issue a personal apology for the surprises that they put in his boxes, but it will be worth it, I think."  
  
"It will indeed," agreed Harry. "Well, since we have some time alone, could we talk a little about some other ideas I had, Minister?"  
  
Noticing how Harry had quickly turned serious, Mr. Weasley agreed.  
  
"I have a few ideas, one in particular, that you might appreciate," Harry said. "First, I know that you will need a lot of help, and you are currently without a Senior Undersecretary or a Deputy Minister. Assuming of course that you will be replacing that evil toad."  
  
"Of course, that was one of the first things to cross my mind. But you obviously have a suggestion or two?"  
  
"Just one. I don't know who would be a good Senior Undersecretary, Umbridge is not a good role model for me to figure out what that person does. But anyone would be an improvement."  
  
"I agree, but you have a suggestion for the Deputy Minister?"  
  
"Erm, yes. You see I have a friend, who has been overlooked for far too long. He could really use the work, but he'd be a great leader and he would be a big asset to you. Plus, he's tremendously loyal to Dumbledore and, I guess, to me."  
  
"Hmm, you seem to think a lot of him. Why are you nervous? What's the problem with him?"  
  
"Well, you see, you'd need to get rid of some laws first, before you could hire him."  
  
"Oh, I see," Mr. Weasley said as he realized to whom Harry was referring. "Would you want me to remove these laws in general or just create an exemption for---our friend?"  
  
"Erm, I hadn't really thought about it that way. But it would be better, probably more advantageous if you were to eliminate the law as a whole. Plus, we might be able to recruit more to our side if we take steps to improve relations."  
  
"I think that I will spend a lot of my time trying to improve relations that Fudge destroyed. But I agree. You are a smart man, Harry, and a very caring one. I don't really see any personal objection to what you propose, but I will ask Dumbledore's advice before I make a final decision."  
  
"I think he'll agree, sir, but that makes sense. When could I tell-- my friend, about this?"  
  
"At dinner, we'll make an announcement. In fact, I'll talk with Dumbledore right away. I would like this to be my first decree tomorrow. That way the furor will hide other plans I have, especially when I transfer Umbridge to the Antarctic office for a permanent tour."  
  
"Excellent! Thank you Mr. Weasley, thank you. I'll let you go, I have a few more things to look up before dinner."  
  
Taking his leave of the new Minister of Magic, Harry went back up to the library to do more research for the D.A.  
  
***  
  
As Dobby and Winky were bringing out the platters of food for dinner, Mr. Weasley clinked his glass to gather everyone's attention. The table was crowded as there were several members of the Order joining the normal gathering of Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley family. Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore were there as well.  
  
"Thank you," Arthur said as the room went quiet. "It has been an eventful day, one that surprised most of us at this table. We have our friend Harry Potter to thank for that."  
  
"To Harry Potter!" shouted Fred and George, and they were greeted by a chorus of cheers.  
  
"Thank you boys. Now, as the new Minister, I have a lot of work ahead of me, and I have decided that I will be more than happy to share this burden that young Harry has unceremoniously imposed upon me. I will be calling upon the Order to help, as well as my family.  
  
"Now first, I will say that I am most displeased with the condition of the Aurors. Fudge refused to let the Aurors train a sufficient number of recruits or let them use their authority as necessary. I mean to impose a new standard. But with the new standard requires new leadership. So, effective tomorrow morning, I will be calling upon our very own Kingsley Shacklebolt to be the Chief Auror. He will have full discretion to recruit, train, and deploy the Aurors to help defend us against Voldemort."  
  
"To Kingsley!" shouted the twins, and again a chorus of cheers joined them. Kingsley was apparently stunned by this turn of events. He tried to object.  
  
"Arthur, be serious man. I'm not at the top, you'll cause anarchy, Aurors will quit in protest for being passed over."  
  
"I am serious, Kingsley. We need competent people. We need those dedicated to the fight. You will be able to coordinate with the Order more effectively, allocate our resources better, and help develop a more strategic approach. I know there are others that the leadership should fall on, but if we went by that approach then I wouldn't be Minister. I trust you, I can rely on you, and I want you. Will you serve?"  
  
"It appears I have no choice. If Harry can con you into your job, I guess I can let you do the same to me."  
  
Arthur smiled. A flutter of panic gurgled in his stomach. This next announcement was going to be more difficult, and he was certain that he'd get more of an objection. Maybe not from this room, but from the public as a whole. Once he made his decision known to his friends and family, there was no backing down from it. Arthur was not the type of person to waffle under pressure.  
  
"Excellent. Now, a more sensitive subject, one for which I need the approval of everyone in this room. As you know, I need to appoint a Deputy Minister. A wizard, or witch, that I can trust implicitly, completely. A person that could step in at a moment's notice to replace me if necessary. Obviously that person must be intelligent, competent in their ability to use magic, aware of the politics of the Ministry, and deeply involved in the struggle against Voldemort.  
  
"We need a person that is loyal to the Order, and dedicated to the fight against evil. Now there are a lot of people that meet that description, but there is more at stake. Fudge and his cronies have soiled the Ministry, so we will need to spend a tremendous amount of time and energy reshaping the Ministry. Fudge and his cronies passed a series of horrible laws and decrees that need to be overturned or modified."  
  
"Like those horrible Educational Decrees?" asked Ron.  
  
"Exactly," replied his father. "But there are others as well. I mean to reexamine many laws. Starting with underage magic. Harry has gotten into a spot of trouble in the past over his use of magic in entirely reasonable situations. We can not risk losing a young person to Deatheaters because they are afraid or hesitate to use their magic. And I will also examine the appropriate age for Apparition. We need to make sure our children can be safe, and if that means allowing them to learn how to Apparate at a younger age, then so be it.  
  
"But most importantly, for tonight, there is one set of laws that need to be changed immediately, and I have asked Madam Bones to prepare a new decree for my signature tomorrow night."  
  
"What does all this have to do with your Deputy, Dad?" asked Ginny. She offered a bright smile that Mr. Weasley immediately recognized as being disingenuous. His daughter apparently had figured out what he was going to say, and was trying to help him. Giving her a small, proud smile, he continued.  
  
"Well, you see, the Ministry has issued several laws regarding non-humans, part-humans, and other creatures that have prevented good, solid individuals from obtaining steady employment. Why our own Remus Lupin has been unable to hold a steady job as a result of these wretched decrees."  
  
"Tell me about it," sighed Remus, oblivious to the grin Ginny threw at Harry. "That horrid little hag took it on as a crusade to prevent werewolves and others like me from getting even miserable, low-paying jobs. But that's excellent Arthur! I really appreciate what you're going to do. It will cause quite the ruckus, but it is the right thing to do."  
  
"I'm glad you feel that way, Remus, I really am," smiled Mr. Weasley. "For you see, my second decree tomorrow, after I revoke those abominable laws, will be to offer you a job. You see, I have decided that you will be my new Deputy Minister of Magic."  
  
Remus fell back in his chair, toppling to the ground in shock. Ginny clapped in delight, having guessed her father's intentions almost from the beginning. Only Molly and Dumbledore weren't stunned by this news as Arthur had already discussed it with them.  
  
Harry quickly jumped up to help Remus regain his chair. Harry was grinning broadly and cast an appreciative look at Mr. Weasley. Mouthing his thanks, Harry grabbed Remus' hand in a firm handshake and congratulated him.  
  
"You're kidding Arthur, you're mad," stammered Remus. "You can't appoint a werewolf as Deputy, it's not safe, the political fallout will be immense. I mean, I thought it would cause an uproar just to let me get a job, but to make me the Deputy Minister, that's just absurd."  
  
"Nonsense," exclaimed Dumbledore. "The Minister has it absolutely correct, my friend. What better show of support than the Minister himself hiring you? And think of the message it sends to all of our potential allies? It shows that he values their abilities and input. If they fight against Voldemort and his Dark ways they are welcome with us. I heartily approve!"  
  
"Me too," chimed in Tonks. "It's a brilliant move, plus you'll finally have a real job and feel better about yourself, that you are finally contributing in a meaningful way."  
  
"How would she know how he's feeling?" whispered Ron to Harry. "Are they an item?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry whispered back. "But that blush creeping up on his neck makes me think something's going on. We'll have to investigate."  
  
Grinning at each other, the two saw Hermione rolling her eyes at them.  
  
"Boys!" she exclaimed quietly. "Leave well enough alone. It's none of your business one way or the other."  
  
Harry smiled and returned his attention to Remus, who was still protesting against Mr. Weasley's decision.  
  
"You don't really have a say, my friend," said Mr. Weasley with a bright grin. "You see, I'm sending a copy of the decree overturning those laws to the Daily Prophet first thing in the morning, as well as the announcement that I've named you my Deputy. Now, if you want to embarrass me on my first day as Minister, and publicly refuse the job, well, I suppose you could do that, but it would certainly hurt our efforts to reclaim the Ministry from Fudge's incompetents."  
  
Shaking his head ruefully, Remus offered a small smile to Arthur.  
  
"So, it seems like I'm trapped. I guess I have no choice but to accept. So accept I will. I appreciate the offer, Minister, and I accept. I will be your Deputy."  
  
"To Professor Lupin!" shouted the twins.  
  
"Erm, that's not right," said Fred.  
  
"No, not at all," agreed George.  
  
"To Deputy Minister Lupin!" they shouted, and the rest of the room joined in the cheer.  
  
The gathering exploded into a raucous party for the rest of the evening. For the first time that Harry could remember, Remus seemed to relax and allow himself to be happy. He knew it would be a tough job, and a difficult one, but Harry was thrilled that his friend would finally be given the chance to shine.  
  
***  
  
Dinner ended a long time later, after much light-hearted conversation and platters of cookies and sweets. Dobby and Winky had made great strides in improving the pantry and items available to them, and Mrs. Weasley was thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to cook for the large gatherings. As the conversations ended and people made their way to their beds or other duties, Remus motioned to Harry to follow him up to the tower.  
  
"Thank you Harry," Remus said as they reached the top of the magical tower. "I know you had something to do with this. I don't know where to begin to thank you."  
  
"Remus, it's the right thing to do," Harry said with a smile. "As much as I wish you could come back to Hogwarts to teach, Mr. Weasley needs you at the Ministry more. And I get the impression from Dumbledore that he already has a new DADA teacher, so I figured this was a good second choice for you."  
  
"Only you would think of the Deputy Minister of Magic as a second choice job. But you are right, Dumbledore has chosen a new DADA professor, though I'll admit I'm a bit surprised at who he chose. Quite interesting."  
  
"Who?" Harry asked eagerly.  
  
"No way, Harry. If Dumbledore hasn't told you, there's no way I will let the secret out. You can learn the same way all your friends learn, at the Welcoming Feast."  
  
"Fine," grumbled Harry. Turning to look out across the city, Harry stared thoughtfully at the twinkling lights. In the course of a week he had dealt another series of blows to Voldemort, overturned the magical government of his country, installed a new Minister, and found his father's friend a job. Not a bad week. He still had a few things to do before his school term started, but Harry felt that he was up to the task. After all, if destiny was going to claim his life, he figured the world owed him a few breaks in his favor every now and then.  
  
"Deep thoughts, Harry?" Remus asked quietly, interrupting Harry's solitude.  
  
"I guess, yeah," Harry replied. "Just thinking about what I have left to do before school starts. I still have that meeting with the Daily Prophet, so I have to figure out how best to use that."  
  
"No more surprises, please Harry. I don't know if we can stand anything else right now."  
  
"Nothing tricky, like today," Harry laughed. "Just a few more things to help weaken Voldemort, and move people in the right direction. We're all in this one way or the other, I just need to help people understand that."  
  
"Well, ask for help if you need it. You are amazing, and I wish you didn't have to be so responsible all the time. In fact, before you go to school, we need to take a day for fun. Something your father and Sirius would want us to do. Maybe we'll go somewhere for the day? We can go to a muggle amusement park or something?"  
  
"That sounds like a good idea, Remus. Let's discuss that after tomorrow."  
  
"Sounds like a plan, Harry. Well, I'm off to bed. I think I'll need my sleep for tomorrow, Arthur wants to get to the office early before many people get in, that way we can prepare certain things before people start demanding his time."  
  
"And yours, once they realize you are the Deputy. Oh, and speaking of which, there should be several packages in your room from Madam Malkin's. I took the liberty of ordering you several new robes for your new job. They had your measurements from the dress robes I made you wear for the trial, so I got more everyday robes for the Ministry."  
  
"Harry," Remus objected. "You didn't need to do that, I don't need charity."  
  
"Sod off. It's not charity, it's a gift. A 'Thank you' gift for taking the job. A 'Congratulations' gift for your new job. Or even a 'We won' gift for Wormtail's conviction. Any way you look at it, I don't care, it's a gift for my friend."  
  
"But the expense Harry, you didn't need to do that."  
  
"Remus," Harry said with sincerity. "You know how much my Dad and Mom had, and Sirius. Right? You knew they were very wealthy? What do I need all that money for? I'm not greedy, or idle. When I get out of Hogwarts, I'll get a job, so I don't really need to worry about the money. And you deserve it. If that hag hadn't prevented you from getting a job, you'd be a professor or something and have plenty of money. So forget it. Pay me back by doing a good job for Mr. Weasley, for all of us."  
  
Remus sighed. Knowing Harry wouldn't let him argue, he shook his head at this wonderfully generous young man.  
  
"Thanks Harry. I appreciate it. I will do a good job, if only to keep the Ministry from interfering in your life again. Now, let's go to sleep."  
  
Putting his arm around Harry's shoulder, the two wizards walked down the magical stairs and went to their rooms. Exhausted, Harry collapsed into his bed, not recognizing that Ron wasn't there. 


	12. The Daily Prophet

Chapter Twelve – The Daily Prophet  
  
"Ronald Weasley, where are we going?" Hermione asked as Ron was tugging her hand, pulling her up the stair case.  
  
Dinner had ended but the party was still going on, celebrating Remus Lupin's appointment as Deputy Minister. Ron had discretely pushed Hermione out of the kitchen and started directing her up the stairs.  
  
"Let's go up to the library," Ron said. "I want to get away from the noise."  
  
Hermione looked suspiciously at him, but seeing nothing that she could object about, she mentally shrugged and followed him up the stairs. As they climbed the stairs, Hermione flinched at the sound of a small explosion coming from the kitchen.  
  
"Must be the twins," Ron laughed. "Merlin only knows what they've concocted for their indoor fireworks."  
  
Giving a nervous laugh, Hermione kept climbing up the stairs. Finding herself disconcertingly out of breath, she walked into Sirius' library. Her library, she reminded herself mentally, awed again at the generosity that Sirius had demonstrated to her in his will.  
  
"Okay Ron, now what's going on," she demanded. "You can't honestly believe that I'd fall for your story that you wanted to go to the library."  
  
Ron gave her one of his trademark innocent expressions, which only confirmed to Hermione that Ron was up to something. She knew him entirely too well and had long since learned to fight of the feelings that surged in her heart when he gave her that adorable expression.  
  
Now that things were finally in the open, their fights had a difference to them. Hermione knew that neither of them was entirely comfortable with expressing their deeper emotions, so they covered their feelings with banter and playful jousting. Every once in a while the newness of the ability to express these feelings surged up and one or the other would inadvertently say something too serious. Just as quickly they would both back away from those words.  
  
It scared her, just a little, about how strongly she felt for this red haired wizard. Although she had known that she felt more than friendship since sometime in their second year, it wasn't until their fourth year that she finally realized that he returned those feelings. Watching him struggle on the night of the Yule Ball still made her warm inside. Although she still felt remorse for the way Viktor had misinterpreted their relationship, Ron's jealousy was cemented in her brain.  
  
The past year was incredibly difficult. She had been so worried about Harry, worried about upsetting him, or distracting him. She repeatedly forced herself to avoid the feelings that she had for Ron, and realized that Ron too was trying to protect Harry. They never talked about it, they never had to, but she and Ron closed ranks around Harry to protect him as best they could.  
  
But that awful night at the Ministry changed everything. She was so scared that something bad would happen. When they got separated, she didn't know what to do. Despite her intellect and ability to think under pressure, part of her mind raced at the possibilities of being defeated by those horrible Deatheaters. Despite her efforts, despite the quick thinking, she had been knocked unconscious and wounded terribly. A month later, after dozens of potions, her body still ached at the memory of the pain.  
  
Maybe this is what it is like for Harry, she thought. At least a little. Suddenly, out of no where, a stab of pain threatens to make you feel like you are about to collapse. And the memories come rushing back.  
  
Fortunately she had only felt the twinges of pain in the morning or late at night, while she was in her bedroom. Of course Ginny knew what was happening, but Ginny had her own secrets, her own pain to live with. They had an unspoken agreement to keep this to themselves. So no one else knew what Hermione was going through, and no one would.  
  
If it got out, well, Ron would try to protect her, in his obnoxiously adorable ham-handed way. Harry would try to help, but then get overwhelmed with his sense of misplaced guilt, and privately sulk and withdraw further. The adults would try to coddle her or force her to take more foul potions, ignoring her protests that all she needed was time to heal, to work through the pain.  
  
Sighing, she shook her head and turned her attention back to Ron who was waving his hand in front of her face.  
  
"Hello? Herms, anyone in there?" he asked.  
  
"Sorry, just thinking. Anyway, now what was it that made you voluntarily enter a room full of books?"  
  
"Erm, well, I just wanted to get away from everyone for a little bit," he said nervously. "You know how noisy it gets with everyone, and they're all so excited about Dad and Remus that I imagine it will be noisy for a while."  
  
Hermione sensed immediately that there was something amiss. Ron's excuse seemed incredibly thin, and he was entirely out of sorts. His body shifted uncomfortably under Hermione's gaze.  
  
"Something is bothering you, Ron. What is it?"  
  
Ron stared in consternation at the remarkable witch in front of him. She truly did know him like one of her books. He couldn't hide much of anything from her, not that he really wanted to, at least not too often. But this was different. He really just wanted to get out of the kitchen before he said something that would offend his best friend and his family.  
  
Ron didn't know where the thought came from, but he was not pleased with Harry's theatrical moves at the Ministry. It was all well and good that Fudge was removed, but Ron wasn't entirely sure that it was a good idea to put his father in that position. The guilt that surged up at that thought hit Ron like a physical blow, but he didn't really understand why Harry picked his Dad to be the Minister.  
  
He accepted Harry's reasoning at face value, and agreed that if Fudge could be Minister anyone could. But something nagged at Ron's brain about the whole event. Maybe it was the overbearing drama of it all. Especially Dumbledore's statement. He could understand people that didn't know Harry calling him the Boy Who Lived, but it was unbearable to hear it coming from Dumbledore's mouth.  
  
It offended Ron for some reason. And because he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason for that feeling, Ron also felt incredibly guilty. He felt guilty for questioning his father's qualifications to be Minister. He felt guilty for being angry at Dumbledore. And he felt guilty for being upset with Harry.  
  
"I, erm, I don't know Herms, I just feel, I don't know. I just feel uneasy about all of this, I guess."  
  
Sighing heavily, Ron collapsed into a nearby couch. Hermione stared thoughtfully at him for a few moments before sitting down next to him. Grabbing hold of his hand and gently rubbing his fingers she looked deep into his eyes.  
  
"I know Ron, I know it's hard. But you have to understand that Harry didn't ask for this, for any of it. He's just trying to do what he can to survive. It's hard, I know, being friends with someone everyone else thinks of as a hero, when to us he's just a friend. But I know you remember everything that happened during the Triwizard Championship. You know Harry doesn't seek the attention, it just follows him."  
  
"It's not that-"Ron sputtered before Hermione interrupted him.  
  
"Wait. Just wait. I know you were upset by today's events, but did Harry really have any choice? He had to remove Fudge, or else we'd lose. And who else would he pick besides your Dad? It's a great choice, and you know it. So what's wrong? Are you jealous again? I know it is hard to be in his shadow, but he needs us to support him, he needs our friendship, now more than ever."  
  
"I know," Ron said impatiently. "But, it's just so dramatic. I mean, Dumbledore calling him by that stupid title, like Harry's some epic hero. The Boy Who Lived, Merlin. It's disconcerting."  
  
"Oh Ron," Hermione said softly, disappointment creeping into her voice. "I don't mean to sound obnoxious, but I don't think you understood what Dumbledore was doing with that little speech. By calling Harry 'The Boy Who Lived' it elevated the moment, it added weight to Harry's speech, and it prevented anyone from objecting. By calling on the hero, not Harry, but 'The Boy Who Lived' Dumbledore was telling the world that the hero of the last war against Voldemort was part of this decision. With Dumbledore calling Harry that, it added Dumbledore's prestige to the decision. It was a silly little statement that had tremendous impact on any wavering head of Department."  
  
A dawning look of comprehension inched its way across Ron's face. He started to look at the days events in a different light, and with Hermione's explanation, things started to make more sense.  
  
"But how did Harry know how to set all this up? When did he figure it out?"  
  
"I don't know," Hermione said chuckling. "Maybe we should ask him. But do you see that he wasn't doing it because he wanted to, but because he had to?"  
  
"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard though, being in his shadow all the time. The Best Mate of the Boy Who Lived. Bloody awkward title. And I'm in your shadow too, you know. The Most Brilliant Witch's Boyfriend. When do I get my own epic name?"  
  
Ron's voice trailed off as he looked into Hermione's face. She had gasped for breath and gone pale. Worried he looked frantically around the library, grabbing for his wand.  
  
"What is it? Herms? You okay? What's wrong?" he demanded anxiously.  
  
"What did you call yourself?" she asked in a whisper.  
  
"Huh? Oh, Harry's best mate."  
  
"The other thing," she said with an anxious tone.  
  
"Oh, erm," he stuttered, blushing. "Erm, I guess I said I was your boyfriend. But, erm, well..."  
  
Before he could finish his sentence he found himself wrapped up in Hermione's arms as she was kissing him fiercely. As her manic kisses slowly subsided into a more interesting technique, Ron found himself struggling for air.  
  
"Bloody hell, what was that for?" he gasped with a grin.  
  
"Well, we never really talked about it, so it surprised me a little when you called yourself my boyfriend. You don't want to take that back, do you?"  
  
"Sweet Merlin, no way. Unless you want me to?" he asked, anxiety filling his voice.  
  
"No!" Hermione exclaimed quickly. "Not at all, it's just, well, we've not discussed it and I wasn't sure what you were thinking."  
  
"You're my everything, Herms. I don't want to be apart from you at all. I mean, well, sometimes you know when I have, erm, things to do, you know what I mean. But other than that, well, yeah, I guess, I mean, well what I'm trying to say is Hermione Granger, will you be my girlfriend?"  
  
Ron's feelings for Hermione finally overwhelmed his nerves as he struggled over his words. He was stuttering madly, blushing furiously, and his eyes danced nervously from Hermione's face to the floor between them.  
  
Hermione sprouted a triumphant grin and gently reached out for Ron's hand. Taking his hand in hers, she leaned in closely and whispered into his ear.  
  
"Yes, Ron, I will be your girlfriend."  
  
Gently kissing his ear as she finished, she slowly worked her mouth down to his mouth and drew him in to a deep, passionate kiss that lasted for an incredibly long time.  
  
***  
  
It was very early in the morning, the sun was threatening to rise above the horizon at any moment, and Ron and Hermione had finally untangled themselves from each others arms. As they snuck back down to their separate rooms, whispering a silent good night to each other they quietly shut their doors.  
  
As Ron tried to quietly sneak across the room to his bed, he didn't notice that Harry was sitting up, watching his progress. Ron had just about gotten into his bed when Harry picked up a shoe and threw it at Ron's back.  
  
"What the heck," Ron spluttered. "Harry," he said whispering, "what are you doing? You'll wake everyone up?"  
  
Grinning at his friend, Harry let out a small chuckle. "I'm not making any noise over here you prat. What are you doing sneaking in so late?"  
  
"Oh, erm, I um, I had to go use the toilet. Yeah, I had to do that."  
  
"Ron, I've been up for an hour. You couldn't have been gone that long. Now, try honesty. Where were you?" Harry grinned. "Or perhaps I should wait until tomorrow and ask Hermione at breakfast?"  
  
"NO!" Ron whispered hoarsely. "No, you can't! Alright you bloody twit, we were up in the library."  
  
"Please, please, no details," Harry protested. "I just wanted to tease you a little. So, did you have fun?"  
  
Yeah," said Ron, determined to get his friend back. "She does this interesting little thing with her mouth that makes my knees go weak..."  
  
"Stop! Mercy!" cried Harry. "I give up! Please, don't talk about it any more!"  
  
Both boys dissolved into laughter, and Ron felt the tension he had been feeling around Harry finally float away. It was stupid, he knew, to still be jealous of Harry at times, but Ron felt certain that he'd always have a sense of jealousy when it came to Harry.  
  
Not that he'd want to trade lives for a minute. The pain and tragedy, the loneliness, all these things made Ron realize how lucky he was in his own life. His parents, brothers, sister, now Hermione, all these people made Ron very lucky indeed.  
  
Looking over at Harry, Ron realized that Harry had been up for a while and tremendous bags were hanging under his eyes. It didn't really surprise him since he had seen Harry like this too many times, but it concerned him like new every time he saw it. Harry realized that Ron was staring at his eyes and he quickly turned away from Ron.  
  
"Want to talk about it?" Ron asked quietly as he changed for bed.  
  
"No," sighed Harry. "It's just hard to sleep here. Not that anywhere else is any better, but it's particularly hard here. Anyway I have to start getting ready for my stupid shareholders meeting. The bloody Boy Who Lived has to make another appearance." He sighed.  
  
"Well, maybe you can go back to just being Harry once we get back to Hogwarts," suggested Ron. "Unless, of course, you've gotten used to all the attention and decide to stick with this hero business a little longer."  
  
Harry glared at Ron and realized that he was mostly joking. Shaking his head, he got out of his bed and started to change.  
  
"Not bloody likely. But I'm going to go downstairs so you can sleep. I'll try not to tell your mum what time you came in here."  
  
Grinning at the panicked look on Ron's face, Harry quietly shut the door and slowly crept down the hallway. As he passed the girls' room, he heard Hermione whispering goodnight to Ginny. Somewhat disappointed that he had missed their conversation, he silently walked down to the main floor and went into the kitchen for some milk.  
  
***  
  
"What are you doing?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as the older girl tried to sneak into their shared bedroom.  
  
Hermione gasped, startled and shocked that Ginny was awake.  
  
"Sorry," Hermione whispered back. "I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
Hermione instantly regretted that statement when she saw a painful look cross the little redheaded witch's face. Apparently Ginny had another nightmare. They were not frequent, but often enough that Hermione knew enough about them.  
  
"New or old?" she asked, calmly.  
  
"Old," sighed Ginny. "I was able to stop it and wake up on my own, which is progress I guess. I don't know how Harry lives with it, I know his are worse than mine."  
  
Hermione nodded and climbed into bed. "I don't know how he handles much of what he faces," she agreed. "But the nightmares are the worst, for both of you. Especially with you waking up in the middle of the night and not able to get back to sleep, it's not fair."  
  
Flashing an impish grin at Hermione, Ginny looked at her speculatively. She was determined to change the subject and try to get back to sleep. "Hermione, dear, it's not the middle of the night, it's almost dawn. Now let's stop talking about dreary old dreams and why don't you tell me what's responsible for that broad grin plastering your face?"  
  
Despite the dim light Ginny saw that Hermione's face turned crimson as a delighted smile made her light up. Ginny giggled with delight that she had succeeded in embarrassing her friend. As Hermione plopped down in her bed and started explaining what had caused her to get in so late, Ginny let out a little squeal of delight.  
  
"So the stupid git finally got up the nerve, did he?"  
  
"Hey, that's my boyfriend you are talking about! But yes, he did."  
  
"Well, good. I suppose it's too much to hope that this will cut down on the bickering between the two of you? Now that you'll have other ways to show how you feel?"  
  
"Oh I don't know," replied Hermione mysteriously. "You never know what will happen. We all choose to show our affection in different ways, don't we?"  
  
The knowing look Hermione gave Ginny made her distinctly uncomfortable. Hermione was never very subtle, but they had agreed to drop this line of discussion, hadn't they? Sighing at the futility of it all, she gave Hermione a lopsided grin.  
  
"Enough, Hermione. It's late, and we need some sleep. Goodnight."  
  
"Fine, enough for now," Hermione sighed, not quite keeping the grin off her face. "Goodnight."  
  
As Ginny reached up to turn off the light by her bed, she could have sworn she heard the sound of feet shuffling at the door.  
  
***  
  
"Witches and Wizards, I thank you for this opportunity to address our dear and wonderful shareholders."  
  
Walter Scrivener, Wizard in Chief of the Daily Prophet, was having the time of his life. It was his first shareholder meeting since he had taken over the paper and he was going to introduce the three most important wizards in Britain. The Board of Directors was sure to be impressed at the events of this meeting, and the shareholders would be pleased to see the paper moving in a vastly different direction.  
  
"This has been an eventful year for the Daily Prophet and I mean to improve our product and the value of your shares in this company. For centuries this paper has stood for journalistic integrity and for upholding the magical way of life. For the past few years, due to unfortunate circumstances, we have lost our way. No longer. I pledge to you here and now that the Daily Prophet will once again be an honest paper, free from outside influence. To address this, I give you the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley."  
  
Mr. Weasley was genuinely shocked by the load cheer that greeted his introduction. He found it hard to believe that he would truly be accepted as a legitimate Minister. But he had received hundreds, perhaps thousands, of letters by owl congratulating him, and as he had entered the vast hall this morning he had been mobbed by well wishers. Only the quick thinking of the Auror bodyguards had saved him when they promptly escorted him to a private room to wait for the meeting to start.  
  
***  
  
It was fortuitous that they had done so, because he found himself face to face with Walter Scrivener. Arthur had certainly heard of this man before, every well-read wizard had, but never had they been in the same room together. For a brief moment Arthur wished they weren't in the same room now. Walter Scrivener, Wizard in Chief of the Daily Prophet, was fuming, and screaming at one of his staff.  
  
"How is it that no one ever told me of this? How am I supposed to run the paper if I can't even print the news? Whose idea was this in the first place?"  
  
"I'm sorry sir," stammered a young wizard who was cowering in fear. "The Minister ordered it, and threatened to shut down the paper if we didn't agree. Now we have to ratify the agreement with the new Minister or the paper is automatically shut down."  
  
"WHAT?!?" exclaimed Mr. Weasley and Scrivener at the same time. At the sound of Mr. Weasley's voice, Scrivener finally realized that someone had entered the room. Looking wildly at the Minister of Magic and his imposing bodyguards, his fury only increased.  
  
"And I suppose you are here to make me sign this cursed document? Well, I refuse! Shut down the paper, confiscate everything! I'll start my own paper and expose all of this! This is outrageous!"  
  
Mr. Weasley was confused at Walter Scrivener's rage. He wasn't sure what the cause was, but realized it had to do with some agreement that Scrivener obviously thought he was there to enforce. Realizing that there was no way to calm the man down while trying to figure out what was going on, he calmly pulled out his wand.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" he said, causing the editor to collapse to the ground.  
  
"Now," Mr. Weasley continued calmly, but wit ha nervous edge to his voice. "Let's see what we have going on. Young man, if you would, please explain to me what has the inestimable Mr. Scrivener is so upset about, I'm sure we can resolve this without too much shouting."  
  
The young wizard stared at the Minister of Magic, incapable of speech. Sighing, Mr. Weasley picked up the document that Scrivener had been waving in his tirade.  
  
Informational Decree #3 – TOP SECRET  
  
The Minister of Magic shall have complete and final control over the  
content of every edition, printing, copy, and/or production of the  
Daily Prophet.  
  
Failure on the part of the Daily Prophet Board of Directors, Wizard in  
Chief, or any of its staff, shall result in the forfeiture of the  
assets and material possessions of the Daily Prophet, L.L.C.  
  
"Oh dear," fretted Mr. Weasley to himself. "Oh dear, oh dear. This is just awful, terrible. No wonder the Prophet was so horrible last year, and so cruel to Harry. Well, this just won't do. Not at all. Let's see, erm, Jones is it?"  
  
"Yes sir," said on of the bulky Aurors stationed at the door.  
  
"Yes, excellent. I don't suppose you have any idea how to revoke a decree? What the process is?"  
  
"Actually, I do, sir. All copies of Ministerial decrees are magically linked to each other. All you have to do is write 'revoked' across it and then tear it in two. All copies will immediately be destroyed and a record of its revocation kept at your office."  
  
"Excellent!" cried Mr. Weasley. "Young man, a quill. Hop to it, no time to delay. This terrible thing must be destroyed immediately!"  
  
The young wizard was still shocked but quickly scrambled about trying to find a quill. Coming up empty he looked desperately at the Minister of Magic.  
  
Arthur sighed and looked about. Seeing a feather sticking out of Mr. Scrivener's pocket, he bent down and plucked the quill out of his pocket. "Sorry for the indignity, we'll get you set back right away."  
  
The Minister of Magic laid the decree out across the table and hastily scratched on its surface. 'Revoked by order of the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley' and tore the paper in two. A shimmer of light shot out from the destroyed document and shot up through the ceiling.  
  
"I presume that should suffice. Now," he said while removing the spell from Mr. Scrivener, "perhaps we can have a civil conversation?"  
  
"What are you playing at Minister?" Mr. Scrivener asked suspiciously. "You barge in here, petrify me, and then tear up that decree. What do you want in exchange?"  
  
"I'm sorry about intruding, sir." Mr. Weasley desperately hoped to calm this man down. It would be a difficult time if he had him as an enemy. "The crowd was mobbing me and my guards here wanted to give me some space. I'm not accustomed to the celebrity, or the guards, to be honest. As for casting a spell on you, I apologize, but you were a trifle angry, it seemed the best way to calm the situation down.  
  
"As for the decree, well, it deserved to be destroyed. It should never have been written in the first place. I am sure it was solely Fudge's decision, but I will ensure that no one at the Ministry will try to do anything like that again so long as I am Minister. You must be free to write the truth. So long as it is the truth." Mr. Weasley's voice grew very stern. "I am not pleased with the tone of the articles over the last year, but I suspect that a wizard of your reputation will impose a higher standard. I know that you will keep the Ministry on its toes, make sure the Ministry does not get arrogant with power, which is good and just. I only ask that you not reveal dangerous or classified information that will help us defeat Voldemort. I trust you will use your better judgment, but do not hesitate to ask my opinion. I will never ask you to withhold information unless there is a solid reason, such as a life at stake."  
  
"Minister," Mr. Scrivener replied with absolute sincerity in his voice. "I do not believe anyone truly knows how fortunate we are to have you in office. I appreciate your honesty and I guarantee you that the Prophet will not knowingly endanger the lives of our readers or Ministry officials. We are all together in trying to defeat this evil. I thank you for removing that decree, I hope we can have a mutually beneficial relationship."  
  
***  
  
As the crowd's cheer died down, the Minister of Magic gazed out across the room. Waiting for the room to be silent, he quietly muttered 'sonorous' and pointed his wand at his throat.  
  
"Thank you Mr. Scrivener. Before I begin I must say that I am a huge fan of yours. My wife and I have read all of your tomes and we were thrilled when you accepted this position. Now, as Minister, I am even more pleased that you are here. We face dark and dangerous times and only the truth will help us survive. In recent years the Daily Prophet has not been a truthful paper, but I am pleased to see that the shareholders have replaced the Board of Directors and the Wizard in Chief. Now, I can certainly appreciate the need to change leadership," his speech was interrupted by appreciative laughter from the audience. Mr. Weasley smiled and continued.  
  
"But there is a matter that in unresolved, which calls us here today. My successor objected to the final seat on the Board of Directors going to its rightful owner. By merit of his financial holding in the company, Harry Potter is due a seat on the board. The former Minister challenged that due to Harry being underage, amongst other reasons, I am sure."  
  
Again Arthur's speech was interrupted by knowing chuckles.  
  
"But I stand here as the newly appointed Minister of Magic to inform the shareholders that the Ministry has no objection to Harry serving on the Board of Directors. Indeed, I urge you to ratify that decision with as much haste as possible."  
  
Walter Scrivener jumped up and motioned to the back of the room.  
  
"Please bring in the candidate, Harry James Potter."  
  
Harry was truly getting sick of the pomposity of these situations. At least today he wasn't being called 'The Boy Who Lived' but witches and wizards that were decades older than him were looking at him with something close to awe. Grumbling to himself Harry marched through the crowd and made his way to the podium in front.  
  
"Are there any objections to granting Harry Potter his seat on the Board of Directors as warranted by his financial holding with our company?" Mr. Scrivener asked. "His term will be for three years, unless a shareholder vote asks him to leave earlier. At the end of three years, he can seek reappointment to the Board. Again, are there any objections?"  
  
The silence in the room was deafening. Every shareholder felt that Harry had earned the right, not just through his inheritance, but because of everything else he had been through. Seeing that there would be no objection with Fudge gone, Scrivener nodded his head.  
  
"Then it is unanimous. Harry James Potter, welcome to the Board of Directors. Would you like to address the shareholders?"  
  
It was a routine question, and the answer was just as routine. In fact, Walter Scrivener never even anticipated that there would be a different answer than usual, so he was shocked when Harry stepped up to the podium and asked the Minister of Magic to cast a spell on him. Once his voice would carry, Harry started speaking.  
  
The audience was stunned. First they were horrified, then they were terrified. But as Harry continued speaking it was as if each person there felt their courage grow. Recognizing that Harry was including them in something larger than themselves, the audience listened intently to Harry's words. When he was finished speaking, the shocked silence informed Harry that he had accomplished what he had set out to do that day. Looking up at the Minister of Magic, his friend and father-figure, he smiled.  
  
"Now it's your turn. Remus and I have to go take a day off from all this."  
  
***  
  
As Harry met Remus at the entrance of the building, his favorite former teacher looked a little shocked at what Harry had done.  
  
"Don't you think that was dangerous? You know the reaction that is likely to bring about, don't you?"  
  
Sighing Harry nodded. He had a haunted look and Remus immediately regretted saying anything.  
  
"Yes," Harry said. "It will likely provoke another attack, but maybe it will not be planned as well because of the rage. Maybe it will fail this time. But I don't see how it is any less helpful to keep that information to ourselves. The more people know what they are facing, the more likely they are to choosing the right side. And if I helped reduce the fear, the panic, at the mere mention of Voldemort's name, well, maybe it's a step in the right direction.  
  
"But enough, this is supposed to be our day of fun. Where are we headed?"  
  
"It's a secret, but luckily enough I was able to borrow a car from Fred and George so we don't have to worry about taking too long to get there."  
  
"Ugh, couldn't we just walk?" Harry asked plaintively. "That car is a terror."  
  
"Nonsense," replied Remus. "It just needed a few modifications to the spells. It will be a much more sensible drive, I promise. Now get in, we have a lot to do and not much time!"  
  
As they drove through the countryside, Harry saw that Remus had indeed improved upon the twins' car. The colors no longer shifted hues quite so erratically and the speed was much more sensible, if faster than most muggle cars drove. All in all it was actually a pleasant drive.  
  
Harry passed the time by asking Remus a variety of questions about his parents. He was desperate for a sense of understanding about the people responsible for his existence. Harry learned that his father was incredibly intelligent, but never let anyone know that he actually studied. He preferred people to think he was a natural genius. Lily was the studious type, she probably would have made Hermione seem almost scandalously lazy. Remus talked about how they had been forced, time and time again, to work on projects together by various professors, and each time they almost came to blows. Only James' chivalry prevented him from ever carrying through on any of his threats against Lily, and only Lily's devotion to the rules prevented her from doing so as well.  
  
"So, if they hated each other so much, how'd they ever get married?" Remus could hear the despondency in Harry's voice, so he pulled off the road and the two of them got out so they could take a short walk in a field full of daisies.  
  
"Harry, love comes about in a variety of ways. Look at Ron and Hermione. They fight and bicker all the time. But you never questioned the way they feel towards each other, right? And Molly and Arthur, they certainly aren't the flowers and candies type every day?  
  
"I can't honestly say that I know what day they turned from hating each other to being absolutely devoted to each other. But it was just that quick. One day Sirius pulled a horrific prank, oh it was awful, but hysterical. Lily walked in and was about to take away hundreds of points. She was absolutely furious!  
  
"But then your father walked in, surveyed the scene, and walked over to your mum. He whispered something in her ear and she blushed. It was a beautiful color, and so out of place on her cheeks.  
  
"She turned back to Sirius and spoke with an authority only Dumbledore or McGonnagal could have matched. 'James tells me you will have this cleaned before supper. Don't let him down.'  
  
"Then she took your dad's hand in hers and they walked out of the Great Hall together, as if they had been doing that for years. From that point on they were a couple, and you would have sworn they had been together forever. It was amazing how much they both changed. She relaxed a lot, even joined us in a few of our pranks, though she never let us prank Severus again. And your Dad got more serious, he really focused on his studies. He wanted to be Minister, he said. But they were deeply in love. After school ended they didn't spend much time apart, and were engaged right away. They moved in together and were happy, very happy. Until, well, they were happy."  
  
Harry wiped a few tears away from his eyes and looked out across the field. It helped, a little. It helped to know that they did love each other, that Snape's Pensieve only reflected a point in time, a time before his dad had changed. It made Harry wish for a different past, one where his parents hadn't been killed, but it helped him put his own past into a better perspective.  
  
He turned back to his friend and mentor, Harry was about to challenge him to a race back to the car when he saw a look of panic on Remus' face.  
  
"Harry get down! now!" Remus barked while he reached in his robes for his wand.  
  
Harry dove to the ground, reaching in his robes for his wand, when he felt the brush of a feather narrowly miss his head. Rolling on the ground ducking behind a boulder that Remus had just transfigured from a pebble, he gasped at the sight of a dozen Deatheaters marching on their position. They had an array of muggle projectile weapons aimed at the two of them, and were determinedly closing the distance between them.  
  
"They've figured out spells don't work on you, for now, so they've resorted to other means," Remus said grimly.  
  
"Will that work? What about the protection spell?" Harry asked.  
  
"I have no idea, but it's not a good idea to try and find out, so keep your head down. I've contacted Dumbledore and let him know we're under attack, he should be here with some Aurors soon. But we have to figure how to delay them for a few minutes."  
  
"I've got a few ideas," said Harry as a bullet from the gun one of the Deatheaters was carrying ricocheted off the boulder. "How good are you at transfiguration?"  
  
"The best," Remus replied modestly. "Seeing as how I turn into the wolf once a month, I've learned a thing or two over the years."  
  
"Excellent. Can you turn these pebbles into really sharp metal blades?"  
  
"I think so. But I don't see how that's going to help."  
  
"What if you put in a time delay? A few seconds or so ought to do it."  
  
"Umm, sure. But I still don't understand what you are thinking."  
  
"Trust me," Harry replied with a nasty grin. "Just put a few second delay on the transfiguration while I distract them."  
  
Grabbing a handful of pebbles, Harry stood up and started throwing them at the oncoming Deatheaters. His aim was excellent; practice on the Quidditch pitch gave him terrific knowledge of velocity and angles. The pebbles started pelting his enemies on the head. At first the Deatheaters ducked and dodged from the pebbles, worried that there was more to his attack. After a few hit with no apparent damage, they became emboldened.  
  
"Aww, does ickle wittle Potty think that wittle wocks is going to hurt us?" Harry felt his bones go cold with hate. It was his godfather's murderer, Bellatrix Lestrange. She was leading this little hit squad against Harry and Remus, and that alone told him how much pain his speech at the Daily Prophet meeting had caused Voldemort.  
  
As his anger and pain flared anew in his heart, Harry continued the barrage, perfectly hitting each Deatheater in the head or shoulder. As he had hoped, after several hits, they started ignoring the pebbles while they continued closing in on his position. Soon they were no more than ten feet away, a short distance. They stopped their march and aimed their various weapons at him, crouching down as a volley of fire same at him, he hurriedly grabbed the transfigured pebbles that Remus had been working on.  
  
When the fusillade had died down, Harry cautiously peered over the boulder. The fools didn't really understand how the muggle devices they were using worked, so most of the weapons had jammed or run out of ammunition. As they fumbled with the strange devices, Harry quickly threw his last normal pebbles at them. He was thrilled when they ignored his barrage.  
  
"Quick," he whispered, motioning to Remus. "Cast a strengthening charm on me, so I'm ten times stronger than normal." Remus quickly complied, comprehension dawning on his face. Harry shifted his stance and threw the transfigured pebbles at them.  
  
His aim was good and his charmed strength made the pebbles fly through the air. The pebbles soared precisely where he had aimed and they hurtled inexorably towards the foolish Deatheaters. Just as they arced down towards their impending targets, each of the pebbles flashed a brilliant shade of blue and were quickly transfigured into metal blades that were amazingly sharp.  
  
Harry ducked down amidst the cries of agony as the metal shards dug into flesh and bone. Remus had done well. The blades were infinitely sharper than usual bits of metal, and the force that Harry threw them with caused them to dig deep into the Deatheaters. Risking a quick glance, Harry and Remus peered over the boulder.  
  
Most had been hit directly, in their arms, chests, or head. A few were on the ground, unconscious or dead, Harry didn't care which, so long as they were out of the action. Most were screaming in agony or fury, and quickly discarded their muggle devices for more familiar wands.  
  
But worst of all was Bellatrix. A shard had hit her in her right eye, shattering the orb. Blood spurted out of her eye socket and her hands were clamped over her face, trying to keep the blood from flowing. It was futile. Blood poured out of her head and was moaning with inhuman agony.  
  
Harry stared dispassionately at what he saw, and felt odd that he had no emotion at this turn of events. He was not pleased, remorseful, or guilty. He just watched as the wretched woman writhed with pain. Several Deatheaters tried to help her, but she pushed them away. Most were stunned, incapable of mounting an attack, until Lestrange straightened with fury etched on her face. One hand desperately clenched around her wand, she muttered a quick spell at her face, and the blood flow finally stopped. As her body clenched with pain, Harry could tell that only an inhuman effort enabled her to stand. She looked over at him, hatred burning throughout her body. She leveled her wand at him and shot a spell in his direction.  
  
Remus' quick thinking saved them both. Throwing up a powerful shield around him, they felt the percussion of a massive explosion buffet them. The two of them were thrown from the boulder as it was torn apart by her spell. Their cover was gone. They were too far away from the car to run to it, and they had several incredibly pissed off Deatheaters summoning their remaining strength for an all out attack.  
  
Harry scrambled for his feet and stood in front of Remus. "Stay behind me," he said coolly. "Any spell they cast at me will bounce back, they can't hurt you if they can't get you."  
  
"Foolish child," spat Bellatrix. "The Dark Lord knows all. He warned us not to aim our spells AT you, but he told us of other ways to get you."  
  
As one the remaining Deatheaters chanted a complex spell. Their wand movements moved in unison to the dreadful chant. Harry felt the earth shake. It was becoming harder to stand. Suddenly a powerful jolt sent him and Remus to their knees.  
  
"Remus, you have to get away. Apparate out of here, now!" Harry shouted.  
  
"No! I won't leave you. Let's see what happens, and we'll manage to get out of here."  
  
Suddenly a large fissure opened up in the ground in front of Lestrange. Molten lava bubbled up from the earth's core, an impossibility, Harry thought. Slowly, but surely the fissure cracked open more earth, moving towards them.  
  
Remus desperately cast a levitation spell on Harry, shooting him up into the air.  
  
"Let me down you idiot!" Harry shouted. "You're unprotected like that!"  
  
Lestrange realized it as well. Taking advantage of Remus' concentration on Harry, she muttered a curse at Remus, causing his body to convulse in pain. When he lost his focus on Harry, the spell ended, and Harry tumbled to the ground.  
  
Unfortunately, the fissure had made its way to where Harry was falling, and he found himself racing to a pit of bubbling lava. He flailed about for his wand, desperately trying to get his hand on it to cast something, anything to get him away from the certain death of the lava.  
  
Harry could feel the heat rising from the ground, he was seconds away from death. Just as his feet started feeling incredibly warm, and a wave of the hot air seared his face, he stopped in the middle of the air.  
  
A soft golden nimbus surrounded him and he hovered there, just above the lava. Laughing, Harry shouted with glee. In the middle of the Deatheaters he saw the newly Apparated form of Professor Dumbledore. Harry was again awed as he saw the old wizard radiate power. Shooting spell after spell, he disrupted the spell and the ground stopped shaking. Harry felt himself being pushed away from the wounded ground, and landed on soft earth just steps away from Remus. Bellatrix had scampered away from Dumbledore and was aiming at his back to cast a spell. Suddenly half a dozen Aurors Apparated in and started shooting spells to come to Dumbledore's defense.  
  
Lestrange shifted her aim and threw a deadly spell at an Auror, who neatly dodged it and threw a jinx in her direction. She dodged and jumped away, cursing as she ran. Pausing to take aim at Remus, she muttered a lengthy incantation and whirled her wand around her head before shooting a spell at him. Harry dove for the beam, but somehow managed to miss it. The spell intersected with Remus' chest, causing the already wounded man to scream with unbearable agony. His body glowed for a moment and his hair seemed to stand on end. Agony was clearly written across his face, and he slumped to the ground. Harry rushed to his friend's side, only to find Remus unconscious and incapable of being revived. Worried about hurting him more, he just held his friend, and cried for Dumbledore.  
  
The powerful wizard rallied the Aurors to subdue the remaining Deatheaters, and quickly rushed over to his former student and employee. Sampling the magic in the air, he paled at the spell he determined that Lestrange had cast. Looking Harry with pain in his eyes, he quickly created a Portkey.  
  
"You must go to St. Mungo's immediately. Tell the Mediwizard that Remus has been hit with the Silverthread Curse. I will be there as soon as I can with the necessary potions to alleviate his suffering. Now quickly, time is of the essence."  
  
Nodding his acceptance of Dumbledore's orders, but confused as to the meaning of what he was being told, Harry grabbed hold of Remus and the Portkey. He felt the awful pull at the navel and was whisked away to St. Mungo's.  
  
When he arrived, he was immediately greeted by a large, imposing figure.  
  
"Dumbledore sent word. We must hurry."  
  
Several mediwizards grabbed hold of the collapsed form of Remus Lupin and whisked him away. Harry started to follow but was held back by the large wizard who had spoken.  
  
"There's nothing you can do right now. We have to wait and see. This will not be easy, and we might easily lose him. You have to be prepared for that. The Silverthread Curse has never successfully been cured, but then again we've never gotten a victim this quickly. We have some reason for hope."  
  
The large man turned and disappeared, following the wizards who had taken Remus. Harry gaped after him in astonished silence. After a few moments the mediwizard's words sank in and Harry fell to his knees, screaming in agony at the thought of losing the last of the Marauders. 


	13. The Wounded Wolf

Chapter Thirteen – The Wounded Wolf  
  
The Daily Prophet – Special Evening Edition  
  
BOY WHO LIVED DENOUNCES THE DARK LORD  
Dark Lord's Father was a Muggle!  
  
by Walter Scrivener, Wizard in Chief  
  
Events unfolded dramatically at a special meeting of the shareholders  
of the Daily Prophet. The meeting was called by former Minister  
Cornelius Fudge to attempt to prevent Harry Potter from his rightful  
place on the Board of Directors (see page 5 for a description of how  
the Boy Who Lived inherited his fortune), and the shareholders of the  
Daily Prophet met today to decide whether Mr. Potter should sit on the  
Board.  
  
The new Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, repudiated Mr. Fudge's  
charges, and called for an immediate vote. It was unanimous, and Mr.  
Potter was immediately installed on the Board of Directors. It is  
here where today's news really begins.  
  
Upon being installed on the Board, young Mr. Potter (see page 7 for  
the life story of Mr. Potter and the untimely demise of his parents)  
described the dark events that have stalked his entire life.  
  
Faithful readers will recall the historic testimony of Mr. Potter from  
the various trials of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, Mr. Peter Pettigrew, and Mr.  
Sirius Black (see page 11 for related stories). At today's hearing,  
Mr. Potter expanded on his previous testimony.  
  
It appears that the Dark Lord has a rather mundane beginning. His  
mother, a witch of the darkest temperament, found herself pregnant  
with the illicit love child of a muggle. Indeed faithful readers, it  
could be said of the imperious Lord Voldemort that he is a mudblood,  
or dirty-blood, or any number of vile epithets that his followers cast  
at the majority of our kind.  
  
Born Tom Marvolo Riddle, Mr. Riddle started researching the Dark Arts  
at an early age while at Hogwart's. Apparently responsible for the  
death of a fellow student, he managed to escape detection by placing  
the blame on Rubeus Hagrid, Groundskeeper and teacher at Hogwarts.  
After graduating from Hogwarts, Mr. Riddle traveled across Europe in  
search of the foulest and darkest wizards, desperately searching for  
more power, despite the taint of such evil.  
  
Mr. Riddle has used his given name as an anagram and came up with the  
designation of Lord Voldemort. Please see the accompanying picture of  
young Mr. Potter to see the display of how this works.  
  
Mr. Potter described all of this to the shareholders today and  
challenged this paper to reveal the truth. "Do not fear this evil  
man's assumed name," the young hero challenged us. "He is no more and  
no less than a dark and evil wizard. If we stand together we can  
defeat him! I call on all of our kind to call him by his true name,  
or even his assumed one, but we must not be afraid to name this evil  
for what it is."  
  
We are only happy to oblige the request of the Boy Who Lived, and the  
Daily Prophet will stop using such silly titles as He Who Must Not Be  
Named.  
  
***  
  
Harry was frantically pacing around the small waiting room outside of the chamber where his favorite professor was fighting for his life. It was a horrible feeling, and it caused dark and painful thoughts to float around in his head. The anguish he had felt at the beginning of the summer still hadn't been entirely resolved, he was still dealing on a daily basis with the death of his godfather, but this attack on top of Sirius' death made Harry's head spin.  
  
Harry couldn't even begin to guess how the Deatheaters had managed to find the two of them. He had no visions from Voldemort which might have served as a link. Harry doubted it was pure chance. So how were they tracked? As he paced around the room, wrapping his head around that query, he was relieved when a door opened and Professor Dumbledore rushed in.  
  
"Professor, he's in there. Do you have the cure? Where are the potions?"  
  
Dumbledore looked at Harry with sad eyes. The twinkle was gone, and Harry sensed that the man was feeling every one of his numerous years. A feeling of despair hit Harry like a physical blow.  
  
"I have a few things to make him comfortable, and Severus is brewing a few others for me as we speak. However, Harry, we must be prepared for the worst. No werewolf has ever survived the Silverthread Curse, but the mediwizards have never gotten a victim this soon. Perhaps there is hope."  
  
Despite the headmaster's words, his voice and body did not seem to hold out any thoughts of survival for Remus Lupin. Excusing himself from Harry, he rushed into the next room.  
  
"How can we trust Snape, when we still haven't learned why he attacked me?" Harry asked himself. Not expecting any answers from the empty room, Harry continued his pacing.  
  
Another commotion outside pulled Harry away from his pained thoughts and he found himself wrapped in a massive hug from Mrs. Weasley. As he gasped for air, she finally released him, only to be swarmed by Hermione and Ginny.  
  
"Thank Merlin you're alive," said Ginny, grabbing him tightly.  
  
"We were worried Harry," added Hermione, joining in the hug. "All we knew was that there was an attack and you and Remus were at St. Mungo's. What happened?"  
  
Harry quickly described the attack, how he and Remus had stalled the Deatheaters long enough for Dumbledore and the Aurors to arrive. When Harry described the curse that had hurt Remus, Hermione's face paled and she gasped.  
  
"Oh no," she moaned. "That's dreadful! What are they doing for him?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry replied. "Dumbledore brought in some potions, but he didn't seem too optimistic."  
  
Hermione quickly started pacing the room, muttering to herself. Her eyes were deep in thought and she ignored the stares of those gathered in the room. After several minutes Ron couldn't control himself any more.  
  
"Hermione!" he said, grabbing her. "Out with it, what are you thinking about?"  
  
"I was just trying to remember what Newt Scamander said about the Silverthread Curse."  
  
"Who?" Harry and Ron asked simultaneously.  
  
"Honestly, do you two ever pay attention to your coursework?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Newt Scamander is the author of several books about magical creatures. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Dangerous Creatures and How to Kill Them. And many more. In Dangerous Creatures he describes the various ways to capture or kill a werewolf and one method is the Silverthread Curse. He didn't describe how to perform it since it has been banned for two centuries."  
  
"Why'd it get banned?" Harry asked.  
  
"It's incredibly cruel," Hermione replied quietly. "It's deadly, but the sole purpose of that particular curse is to cause the death of a werewolf over a long period of time. It takes days or weeks for the victim to die, but it has always caused the death of its victim. The Ministry decided that if a werewolf needed to be killed, there were other, more humane ways to do it, so they prohibited it. It's not quite an Unforgivable, but it is close enough. It's not listed because no one is supposed to know how to do it. But I guess they were wrong."  
  
Harry was anguished. His friend was dying from a curse long since removed from the collective memory of witches and wizards, and it had no known cure. Hermione, the smartest witch he knew, said it was fatal, and Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard alive, seemed to think even he couldn't do anything. Despair welled in his stomach, and he felt like he was going to be sick.  
  
"Ron, we need to go back to Harry's. I need to get my books." Hermione's voice was firm and determined. Ron looked at her with surprise, but saw that she was set on this strategy. Nodding his head, the two of them left the room, leaving Harry alone with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.  
  
"Harry, dear, can I get you something to eat or drink? Or a more comfortable chair?" Mrs. Weasley relied on her mothering instincts in times of stress, and she knew he would refuse, but she had to try.  
  
"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm fine. I just wish that Dumbledore would come out so I could talk with him."  
  
"I'm sure he's doing what he can right now, we just have to wait, and hope."  
  
Hours passed, and finally Dumbledore came back out, his face grave and his eyes dulled in their sockets.  
  
"He's more comfortable, but he is deteriorating rapidly. I don't believe that there is much hope," he sighed.  
  
"NO!" shouted Harry. "We have to do something, anything. Where does this Silverthread Curse come from? There has to be a something that will work, we just need to figure it out."  
  
"Alas, I know of no such cure. It is a dreadful curse, with terrible origins. It causes the iron in a person's blood to slowly turn into silver. It would not be a problem for a normal person, but as Remus is a werewolf, the effects are fatal. As his blood is turned into liquid silver, it poisons him and kills him. His own blood is eating away at his body."  
  
"What about a transfusion?" Harry asked, desperation seeping into his throat.  
  
"No, that wouldn't work, he would need a full replacement, and even then the silver would just regenerate itself."  
  
"Isn't there anything we can do?" begged Harry. As Dumbledore started shaking his head sadly, the outer door burst open again and Hermione and Ron came rushing back in, Ron was struggling with a bag full of books and Hermione had one open in her arms, reading feverishly as she came into the room.  
  
"Harry, Harry!" she cried. "I think I have an idea. Oh, hello Professor Dumbledore, I didn't see you there." Hermione had walked right into the headmaster in her eagerness to bring the book to Harry. It was unlike any book Harry had seen since it was not a book for school, instead it looked like a muggle book on medicine.  
  
"What is that?" he asked. "Where did you get it?"  
  
"Oh, erm, I was doing some independent research for a paper on medicine and bought a few muggle medical textbooks."  
  
"Hermione, we don't have any homework over the summer, they didn't give us any because we didn't know our courses until we got our OWL results."  
  
"Well, I knew I'd be taking the Magical Medicine course, I just wasn't sure if I would take it at NEWT level, but that's beside the point. Ron, give me that other book."  
  
Ron pulled out a large, dusty tome from the library Hermione inherited from Sirius. The leather binding was cracked with age and the parchment looked incredibly brittle as Ron slowly opened the book Hermione had asked for.  
  
"You see," the brainy witch explained, "I was reading this muggle textbook on medicine. It talks about a treatment they use for treating some cancer patients. They use chemicals to burn out the cancer and then let the body heal itself. I thought maybe that idea would work with Professor Lupin. We could burn out the silver, and then help his body heal with other potions."  
  
"But won't that kill him? Burning him from the inside out?" asked Harry.  
  
"Well," said Hermione tentatively, "that's the whole point. You use certain chemicals to try to kill the cancer faster than the rest of the body. Once the cancer is dead, you stop the treatment, and then heal him. There's got to be a way to make this work."  
  
"Indeed there is, my child," said Dumbledore, a faint glimmer of the twinkle returning to his eye. "That is a brilliant notion. May I review that book?"  
  
Hermione eagerly gave him her muggle textbook and the ancient wizard started quickly leafing through the pages. Harry and his friends stared with astonishment as Dumbledore seemed to flip through each page, pausing briefly to scan each page. Finally Dumbledore slammed the book shut and crowed with delight.  
  
"Absolutely brilliant! These wonderful muggles have such amazing concepts. Now, we must hurry. Hermione, my child, do me a favor and give me the book Magical Maladies and Poisons of Ancient Egypt. I trust that you brought that text?"  
  
Ron snorted and started digging through the bag, looking for the book. "Of course she brought it, I've got half the bloody library in here. I think I'll need to check in here myself from the strain."  
  
"Ronald!" gasped Mrs. Weasley. "Watch your language!"  
  
Hermione smiled and grabbed the book from her blushing boyfriend's hand.  
  
"Of course Professor, I thought it might be useful since the ancient Egyptians pioneered most treatments for blood related diseases, and they certainly had a large amount of experience with magical poisons."  
  
She handed the book over to Professor Dumbledore and eagerly showed him the index. Scanning through the list of poisons and spells in the book, Dumbledore's eyes stopped at a place where Hermione had excitedly made a mark.  
  
"The Bloodfire Draught," he whispered aloud, in amazement. "This just might work. Hermione, dear child, you have my deepest thanks. Perhaps I can induce you to assist Professor Snape in the making of this dreadful potion? It is incredibly complex and I believe that he will need you to help prepare the ingredients if we are to save Remus. We are fortunate that this deadly poison does not take too long to prepare, largely because it is so volatile."  
  
"But Professor," interrupted Harry. "We still don't know why Snape tried to use that Portkey on me, we don't know if he's still on our side! We can't trust Hermione, or Remus, to him."  
  
Dumbledore looked at Harry with weary eyes.  
  
"Professor Snape," he said, emphasizing the title, "has earned my trust. I do not know his explanation for the attack on your relatives household, for he just arrived at Hogwarts this afternoon, prior to the attack on the two of you. But he agreed to be bound to the castle, and is unable to leave until I release him, no matter what summons he may receive. We will get to the bottom of that incident. I ask you to trust me Harry, but saving Remus is of the primary importance."  
  
Anger at Snape dueled with concern for Remus in Harry's head. The agony he felt at the prospect of Remus dying won out, and Harry reluctantly nodded his head.  
  
"But I want Ron to be there too, just in case."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head at Harry's request and pulled out a cube-shaped object from his robes. It was obviously a Portkey since he handed it to Hermione along with the Egyptian book on poisons. Ron grabbed hold of the cube and they promptly vanished.  
  
Turning to go back into the room where Remus was being cared for, Dumbledore reached for Harry and grasped his shoulder.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. Now, please come in with me, it would do Remus some good to see you, I think. He has been heavily dosed with various potions to relieve the pain, so he may be a little groggy and out of focus."  
  
Concern was etched on Harry's face as he quietly followed Dumbledore into the room where Lupin was lying on a bed. Harry gasped at the sight of his friend and former teacher, it was a horrible sight. Remus was gaunt, as usual, but he seemed to have lost a quarter of his body weight in the few hours since the attack. He was sweating profusely, and Harry could sense that Remus was concentrating on not moaning or screaming with agony. Every muscle was clenched in pain and Remus was swaying back and forth in the bed, rocking along to the rhythmic agony of the foul curse that was destroying his body.  
  
Harry gingerly stepped up to the side of the bed, plunged a cloth into a basin of ice water and wrung it out. With soft, soothing motions he wiped Remus' forehead, trying to ease the pain, if only a little. Great big tears welled up in Harry's eyes, but he continued to soothe his friend's head. Remus' eyes shot open and he looked up at Harry with confusion.  
  
"J-James?" he gasped. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry. Don't be mad, please, I don't really know what happened. I couldn't save Sirius, and I wanted to protect Harry, I did, but something hit me, I'm not sure what. Oh James, I'm sorry I couldn't protect your boy."  
  
"No, Remus, it's me, Harry." Harry tried to reassure his friend, but Remus didn't seem to realize that Harry had spoken.  
  
"He's an amazing boy, James, you and Lilly would be very proud. He has had a hard life, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for him more. But you know how dangerous it is for me to get close to anyone. Don't you? Please James, tell me you understand."  
  
Harry's heart was wrenched by the pleading sound of Remus' voice. Harry stared wordlessly at him, trying to find the right words to alleviate his mental agony. Just then another spasm of pain wracked through Remus' body, causing his eyes to clench shut with agony and his mouth clamped shut as he forestalled another cry of agony. Harry looked over to Dumbledore with accusing eyes.  
  
"I thought you said you had given him something to relieve the pain?" His voice was cold with anger.  
  
"I did, Harry. But the curse is very strong and causes tremendous agony. We've alleviated the pain, but we can not block it."  
  
"What about stunning him? Wouldn't it be better if he was unconscious?"  
  
"I've tried that as well. Nothing seems to work. I cannot make him sleep or make him unconscious, the curse prevents it. We can only hope for a miracle from Ms. Granger and Professor Snape."  
  
Minutes ticked by as Harry kept wiping Remus' forehead with a damp, cool cloth. Harry's nerves were fraying quickly with every spasm, his anger boiling up from deep within. His gaze was centered solely on Remus, and he did not see the tears drop from Dumbledore's eyes.  
  
After one hour Harry had almost given up hope. After two, he was sure that he was doomed to watch the last of his father's friends die in misery. Remus' pain had to be intolerable. Every gasp from Remus' mouth caused Harry to flinch and grind his teeth, and he vowed to himself that he would exact revenge for this foul attack.  
  
Finally the door flung open and Hermione and Ron came bustling through the door.  
  
"Harry! Professor Dumbledore! We have it, we got the potion!" Hermione gasped as she ran breathlessly into the room, carefully clutching a vial that had a faint red glow. Gingerly extending the precious vial to Dumbledore with shaking hands, Hermione eagerly looked at Harry.  
  
"This HAS to work, I just know it."  
  
Dumbledore quickly pulled off the stopper of the vial and measured out a large dose for Remus. Gently grasping the writhing wizard's neck to sit him up, the ancient wizard slowly poured the red potion down Remus' throat. At one point Remus gagged at the vile concoction, almost spitting the fluid out, but Dumbledore firmly held on to the writhing man. After several moments the entire dose had been poured down his throat and Dumbledore let him sink back into the bed.  
  
Remus was gasping for breath, sweat started pouring out of him and within moments the bed was drenched. If possible he seemed to be in more pain and his writhing increased as the agony grabbed hold of every fiber of his being. The little crowd watched anxiously for a sign, any sign, to indicate that the potion was working. Moments crept by into minutes. Minutes crept by, silence pervaded the entire room except for the ragged, gasping breaths of Remus.  
  
Harry stared in silent concern at his friend, desperation eating at him as he watched this kind and loving man struggle for his very life. As Harry watched the sweat pour out of his friend, he noticed that a large tear was forming in Remus' eye. Gradually the tear grew bigger and bigger until it streamed down his face, leaving a faint red trail along its path. Another tear formed and followed that same path, leaving a deeper red path.  
  
Harry looked more carefully at his friend and realized that every pore of his body was starting to turn red, as if Remus was being poked by something hot at each pore. Realization dawned on him in an instant.  
  
"It's working, sweet Merlin, I think it is working. But the silver is burning his skin. We have to remove his sweat and tears immediately or it will keep burning him."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head and quickly waved his wand and muttered several incantations. Remus was quickly lifted from the bed by invisible hands and a massive tub of water appeared. Before letting him drop into the water, Dumbledore conjured up some gillyweed and gently shoved it into Remus' mouth, forcing him to chew. Once the ailing wizard was in the tub, the water started swirling around him, creating a vacuum around his wounded body.  
  
"That should work," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "With the gillyweed he's able to breathe underwater, and the whirlpool will pull the contaminated liquid away from his body. It will take some time I think, but we may have done the impossible."  
  
Turning his beaming face towards Hermione, Dumbledore offered her a grand smile.  
  
"Congratulations, Ms. Granger. You are the first witch or wizard to successfully cure a werewolf of this dreadful curse. I am sure the mediwizards will want to congratulate you and talk to you about your insight, but well done, well done indeed."  
  
Grasping the beaming girl in a tight hug, Dumbledore seemed to be decades younger. The deep furrows of worry had receded and the mystical twinkle was back in his eyes. Looking over at Harry, the ancient wizard nodded his head to reassure him that everything would be alright.  
  
Disentangling himself from Hermione's awed embrace, he patted her on the shoulder and quietly excused himself from the room to inform the mediwizards of her remarkable cure.  
  
Harry crossed over to Hermione and grabbed her in a fierce embrace. Tears were streaming down his face in relief as he allowed himself to hope for a swift recovery for Remus.  
  
"Th-Thanks, Hermione," he murmured. "I knew you'd be able to figure it out, but, well, thanks."  
  
Hermione responded with a fierce hug of her own.  
  
"Harry, we're all in this together. I don't care what the stupid prophecy says, it doesn't mean you'll be alone. We're a family, all of us, and family fights for each other."  
  
Reaching out to Ron, she pulled him in to the hug, along with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, and the small group stood for several minutes trying to comfort and reassure each other.  
  
***  
  
It took several hours for Hermione's potion to do all of its work and burn out the dreadful effects of the curse. But after several comprehensive exams by the mediwizards, who were truly impressed by Hermione's cure, Remus was finally removed from the water and allowed to rest in his hospital bed.  
  
Mrs. Weasley wanted to bring everyone back to Harry's to sleep, but Harry refused. Instead he sat in a chair next to Remus' bed and spent the night watching over Remus. Every once in a while Harry would dip a cloth into a bucket of ice water and wipe Remus' forehead, trying to relieve the strain evident on the older wizard's face.  
  
By the middle of the night Remus seemed to relax a bit more and the pain seemed to recede. He was sleeping comfortably and breathing regularly, and Harry finally allowed himself to accept the possibility that Remus would truly be okay.  
  
Realizing how tired he was, Harry rested his head down on the bed near Remus' hand and slowly drifted off to sleep. He slept for hours, his body eagerly relaxing and attempting to recuperate from the strain of the day's events. His dreams shifted from pleasant memories to darker ones.  
  
Harry was reliving a confrontation with Malfoy at school, his first really, when he first realized he could fly on a broom. But this time, instead of catching Neville's remembrall, when he caught up with it the object was no longer a clear crystal sphere. Instead it was Sirius' hand. Harry wasn't sure how he knew what it was, but it was clearly Sirius' hand. Dropping it in disgust, the dream Harry floated back down to the crowd gathered below him.  
  
Instead of cheering Gryffindors, Harry was faced with a crowd of Deatheaters and other angry witches and wizards. All of them were looking at him with anger or fury. Confused, he tried to reach out to one of them, but the crowd melted away from his touch. Pushing forward he tried to grab hold of a Deatheater, who simply disappeared. Turning in frustration, Harry heard a soft, venomous chuckle, and he felt the familiar pain of Voldemort establishing a connection with Harry through the scar.  
  
Voldemort appeared in the middle of the courtyard, and the crowd abruptly vanished. Voldemort looked over at Harry, his red eyes burning with anger, but his mouth was lifted up in a smirk as he looked down at Harry.  
  
"It has been a while, young Potter," he sneered. "I trust you've missed me?"  
  
"Get out of my mind," Harry seethed. "You can't harm me here, and you know it."  
  
"I can do many terrible things to you Harry. Your mother's precious protection doesn't work in your dreams, and I can harm you in immeasurable ways."  
  
Voldemort quietly muttered something and flicked his wand at Harry. Harry tried to dodge the beam, but felt leaden and slow, he wasn't fast enough. Pain, unbearable and intense, flared through his entire body. Harry screamed.  
  
Voldemort laughed at the spectacle of his enemy floundering on the ground like a fish out of water and grinned at the agony the boy was obviously feeling.  
  
Eventually he decided to end the curse and let Harry catch his breath. Unfortunately for Voldemort that was a mistake.  
  
Gasping for breath Harry stood up. His legs were shaking from the twitches in his muscles from Voldemort's curse. Slowly he calmed his legs and caught his breath. Glaring at Voldemort with venom in his eyes, Harry slowly concentrated on Voldemort's face. Repressing a shudder at the horrible sight in front of him, Harry took a deep breath and held it. Concentrating all of his anger towards his lifelong enemy, Harry pushed his mind out towards Voldemort.  
  
"I SAID GET OUT OF MY MIND!!!" Harry screamed. As he screamed he pushed at Voldemort with his anger and a bright flash of light shot out of Harry towards Voldemort. Harry suddenly felt a swooshing sensation as if he was being pulled rapidly away by his belt. As he flew away he heard the sounds of Voldemort screaming in inhuman agony.  
  
With a sharp gasp Harry woke up and nearly fell over in his chair. Dazed from his dream he didn't realize that the only reason he hadn't fallen to the ground was because Remus had grabbed on to his shoulders and kept him from crashing to the ground.  
  
"Harry? Are you okay? You were shouting," Remus said, his voice shaking just a bit.  
  
"Remus? Remus, you're awake! Thank goodness you're awake!" Harry shouted with joy, momentarily forgetting his dream, Harry was overcome with joy at the prospect of his friend waking up.  
  
"Yes, I'm awake. How could I sleep with that racket you were making? Tell me, was it a dream or worse? You were yelling," Remus said, concern resonating through his voice.  
  
"Never mind, I'm fine," he said firmly. "How are you?"  
  
Remus slowly let go of Harry's shoulders, reluctantly deciding that Harry wouldn't divulge anything about his obvious nightmare. Groaning with the exertion of sitting up, Remus slowly stretched his aching arms and back.  
  
"Merlin, I feel terrible. I feel worse than after a full moon. What happened?"  
  
"We were attacked by Deatheaters, and Bellatrix hit you with the Silverthread Curse."  
  
Remus gasped, his eyes widening in horror. "H-how long?" he asked.  
  
"About a day," said Harry, misunderstanding the question.  
  
Remus groaned and collapsed back into the bed, his eyes watering in dread.  
  
"Okay," he sighed. "How will they control the pain? From what I recall, it is supposed to be excruciatingly painful."  
  
Realizing the confusion immediately, Harry interrupted. "Remus, you don't understand, you were cured."  
  
"Harry, I don't know what they told you, but there's no cure. It's fatal to a werewolf. I know, it's okay, I'm just, I'm just sorry that you have to see me die, so soon after Sirius." Tears welled up in his eyes, and Remus shook his head at the cursed life he had led.  
  
"No, Remus, you don't understand. Hermione and Dumbledore, they came up with a cure. They gave you something called the Bloodfire Draught, and it cured you."  
  
Remus was stunned. It was impossible to survive the Silverthread Curse, every werewolf knew it. Even though its use had died out centuries ago, werewolves to this day knew about the deadly, painful method of torturing their kind to death. Remus couldn't even begin to hope that it was true. Maybe Dumbledore was trying to be kind to the young boy who had already lost so much, by giving him some false hope. Shaking his head with determination he looked at Harry with fondness in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry, but it's just not possible. I know this will be hard, but we have to accept the truth."  
  
"Listen you stupid mongrel," Harry snapped, irritation and a hint of humor mixed in his voice. "When I tell you that the smartest witch of my generation and the most powerful wizard alive have managed to find a cure that stumped wizards for centuries, don't question it, accept the miracle and rejoice in your salvation."  
  
"Merlin, you sound just like your father," breathed Remus. Could it be true, he wondered. Could it possibly be true? Sure, the pain was much less severe than it had been for the past several hours, and Remus didn't feel like he was being ripped apart at the seams any longer.  
  
"Harry, is it REALLY true? Dumbledore and Hermione? They saved me?"  
  
Nodding his head, tears standing in his eyes, Harry grinned at Remus. "Yes, it's true. We managed to get you here fast enough and Hermione and Dumbledore figured out how to save you. The mediwizards spent hours talking with Hermione about her idea after she and Snape made the potion and gave it to you."  
  
"Sev-Severus? He helped?" Remus asked in an awed voice. "I owe him my life? That will take some getting used to, I think."  
  
"No!" seethed Harry. "If anyone, you owe Hermione, not that foul despicable man. He was merely the way of getting the potion done in time. If Hermione had all the ingredients, we wouldn't have needed him."  
  
"Okay Harry, fine," Remus said, trying to calm down the agitated teenager. "I'm just glad to be alive."  
  
Just then the door swung open and a blurred form rushed through, knocking Harry out of the way and crashing into Remus on his bed. Harry could hear muffled sobs coming from the mysterious person and watched in astonishment as the person suddenly started shifting form in front of him.  
  
Realizing that it had to be Tonks, Harry was stunned to see her weeping and clutching at Remus. If it wasn't such a serious moment, he would have laughed. Remus was obviously trying to disentangle himself from Tonks' firm grip so he could sit up, while at the same time reassuring her that he was okay.  
  
"Nymphadora, I'm okay, I'm going to be okay," Remus said, patting her on the head as he squired his way into a more dignified position.  
  
"Oh Remus, I was so worried when Dumbledore told me, I wanted to Apparate here but he was worried that I would splinch myself, so he made me take the Knight Bus. It took so long, they wouldn't move me ahead in the queue. Oh Remus," she started sobbing again.  
  
"Nymphadora, please, I'm okay. They've cured me, it's a miracle, but I'm going to be okay. Now stop this, please, you're embarrassing Harry." Remus let out a soft chuckle, but Harry noticed that he was still clutching on to Tonks as if his life depended on it.  
  
"Wh-What? Harry's here, oh bloody hell, hiya Harry," Tonks said as she turned her tear streaked face towards Harry and offered him a wan smile. "Erm, how are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine, in fact I think I'll go for a bit of a walk and let the two of you have some time together. Take care of him Tonks," Harry smiled as he walked out.  
  
"With all my heart," Tonks replied, automatically, and immediately blushed as she realized that she had said that out loud. Remus' face burst into flames and he looked at Tonks with astonishment as Harry quietly shut the door to prevent them from hearing his sniggering.  
  
***  
  
Harry was sitting in the hallway drinking a rich cup of hot chocolate when Ron and Hermione entered the hallway, walking toward Harry hand in hand with small smiles on their faces.  
  
"Hiya Harry, how's Remus?" Hermione asked.  
  
"He's still in some pain, and needs more sleep, but he's doing okay. Thanks to you," Harry replied with a broad smile. Hermione blushed with deserved pride and grasped Harry in a tight hug.  
  
"Easy there you two, I'm going to get jealous in a second," Ron teased, grasping Harry's shoulders in a brotherly hug.  
  
"Worried she'll come to her senses?" Harry quipped back.  
  
"Sod off, you," Ron said, forcibly separating his girlfriend and best friend who were both grinning at him. "We did come by to see how you were doing, but with an attitude like that, maybe we'll just pop in and see how Professor Lupin is doing."  
  
"Oh, well, I wouldn't go in there if I were you?" Harry replied.  
  
"Oh, c'mon, Hermione saved his life, I'm sure he'd want to see her," Ron said, pushing the door open and immediately turning around with his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flaming in embarrassment.  
  
"Ron? Is everything okay?" Hermione asked, concern edging into her voice.  
  
"Yeah, Herms, it's just erm, well, you see Professor Lupin is a little occupied at the moment. I'm sure he'll be fine in a moment or two now that he knows we're out here."  
  
Hermione stared at him, not understanding what Ron was saying until the door opened with a blushing Tonks gesturing them in to the room.  
  
"Oh," said Hermione, a small blush creeping up on her face. "Erm, hi Tonks. We're here to see Professor Lupin, I hope that's okay?"  
  
Tonks nodded her head and opened the door further to let them in. "No problem. He wants to see you Hermione, to thank you. As do I. You have no idea how thankful I am that you saved his life."  
  
"Oh, I think I may have some small idea, Tonks," Hermione replied, giving Ron a small smile. "Somebody has to take care of the men in our lives, right? I'm just glad that I was able to help."  
  
"And help you did," Remus said from his hospital bed. "Thank you Hermione, I would have died if you hadn't come up with such a clever cure. I am indebted to you for the rest of my life."  
  
Remus spoke with an intensity and sincerity that caused Hermione's eyes to well with tears. Ron quietly grabbed hold of her hand and gave her a proud squeeze. Hermione nodded her head at the compliments and sighed.  
  
"I'm glad I could help," she said. "And I'm glad you are okay."  
  
"Me too," replied Remus. "Me too." 


	14. The Pain of Dreams

Chapter Fourteen – The Pain of Dreams  
  
Harry was weeping. His dreams, never particularly pleasant or kind, were particularly cruel this night. Despite the good news that had come with Remus' recovery, Harry, as always, felt a tremendous amount of responsibility and burden for the attack and near death of his friend.  
  
Hours earlier, as he drifted off to sleep, he was feeling thankful that Remus was alive and going to make a full recovery. Perhaps that was what had caused his dreams to take the dark path that they had taken.  
  
Shadows followed Harry wherever he walked in his dream. For a while he walked randomly, finding himself first at Privet Drive, then at the Burrow. He watched, an observer, as his blood relatives and then his real family went about their normal daily activities, eating meals, cleaning house, nothing out of the ordinary. But whenever Harry passed by a mirrored surface, out of the corner of his eye he saw something behind him. He would whirl about, trying to catch sight of what was following him, but it was never there when he turned his head.  
  
Then Harry found himself back at the Ministry, in the dreaded chamber where Sirius had died. Harry was alone, but had the nagging sensation that he was being watched. With determination Harry approached the awful veil. Placing a cautious hand on the surface of the frame, Harry was surprised that it felt vaguely warm. He had expected it to be cold, like death.  
  
A strange resolve welled up in his head, and Harry cautiously put a hand in the center of the veil. Disappointed, Harry saw his hand through the other side. He had not penetrated the veil. Angrily, Harry threw caution to the wind and put his head through the veil, trying to see what was beyond it.  
  
That, of course, even in a dream, was a mistake.  
  
The first thing Harry was aware of was the darkness. It was as if there never had been any light.  
  
Ever.  
  
Any memory he had of light or color was placed immediately in doubt as a fantasy or deranged imagination. The darkness was so absolute that his memory of light could never have actually been true.  
  
Then Harry was cold. Not the refreshing cold of a brisk winter day after a refreshing walk near the Forbidden Forest. This cold was cruel. It was a deep, rattling coldness that sucked away the warmth of Harry's body and chilled him to the bone. His heart spluttered at the icy fluid coursing through his veins, his lungs spasmed in pain at the shock of the air as he gasped for breath, and his eyes clenched in their sockets as the bitterness of the cold leached away at his body.  
  
It was, of course, the smell that hit Harry the hardest. The decay of death was all around him. The putrid, pungent odor of foulness overwhelmed his senses, grasping at his nose, overwhelming him. Harry gasped for air, and he swallowed death. Vomit spewed out of Harry's mouth, and it too had the taste of decay and filth. So Harry vomited again and again, until he could not stand from the weakness and the pain in his gut.  
  
Harry was crumpled on the ground, shivering, groaning with agony, surrounded by a pool of his own filth. Dimly he was aware of the grating sound of footsteps coming near him.  
  
"Harry." It was a voice Harry knew, but hadn't heard in over a year.  
  
"C-Cedric," Harry whispered, disbelievingly.  
  
"Yes," Cedric replied, "move along, I have little time."  
  
Cedric turned and started walking briskly away. Harry pushed himself up, racing after Cedric.  
  
"Bu-but Cedric, wait for a moment, please," Harry pleaded as he tried to catch up with his dead friend.  
  
"No, Harry, I'm sorry. The dead wait for no one, especially you," Cedric replied.  
  
Harry stared at the young, dead boy. "What do you mean?"  
  
"The dead do not wait. Especially for you."  
  
"I don't understand," cried Harry as Cedric resumed his rapid pace. Harry could see the retreating figure of Cedric's back, though he wasn't entirely sure where they were. He again picked up his pace to try to catch up, but this time the gap between the two boys did not close, and Harry found himself trailing further and further behind Cedric.  
  
Gradually Harry heard the dim murmuring of voices buzzing at his ears. It was as if he was hearing a conversation from the far side of a Quidditch pitch, barely able to catch a word here and there, never enough to make out the conversation.  
  
"...dead," a female voice whispered out of the noise.  
  
"How?" a male voice asked.  
  
"..blame.." Harry couldn't quite make out who was speaking.  
  
"..pain," the female voice again.  
  
"..fault!" a different male voice exclaimed.  
  
The voices suddenly became clear and Harry realized that the voices were those of his parents.  
  
And his godfather.  
  
Tears welling in his eyes, Harry started running, hoping he was going in the right direction, determined to meet up with these three important people in his life. He ran as fast and hard as he could, too fast to hear the conversation, but able to determine that it was continuing. The voices grew louder as he ran, so Harry knew he was moving in the right direction.  
  
Coming to an abrupt stop as he tripped over an unseen obstacle and fell to the ground, Harry looked up and saw the memorized faces of his mother, father, and godfather.  
  
"Mum! Dad! Sirius!" Harry cried out in excitement. "I can't believe I found you. Did Cedric lead me to you?"  
  
"I'm sorry son, but no. Now move along. We must be going," Harry's father said. "We have little time."  
  
James bent and grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him up to his feet. The touch was cold, and Harry's flesh shivered at the contact. Abruptly the three adults turned and started walking away from Harry.  
  
"Mum, please, wait for a moment, I don't understand," Harry pleaded.  
  
"I'm sorry son, but the dead wait for no one, especially for you." Harry's mother spoke the same words as Cedric had, with the same inflection in her voice. It was not the voice Harry remembered from his terrible duel with Voldemort, where she had helped him escape, or from his horrible memories of the night she and his father were killed. It was a cold, dispassionate voice with no warmth for Harry.  
  
She turned away from Harry and continued walking with James and Sirius. Harry scrambled to keep up, but again he could not.  
  
"Sirius, please, I don't understand," Harry cried, tears welling in his eyes.  
  
Sirius turned his head over his shoulder, the spark of mischief gone, leaving a dull and vacant expression on his godfather's face.  
  
"The dead do not wait," Sirius said. "Especially for you."  
  
A gap had opened up between the three adults and Harry, and Harry again found himself running to try to catch up. But to no avail. Despite his efforts, Harry could not catch up to his parents or godfather and the distance slowly widened and he eventually lost sight of them.  
  
Collapsing to the ground, exhausted, Harry started crying. He didn't understand where he was, he was cold, it was dark, and the stench was still terrible. Cedric had abandoned him. His parents had abandoned him. Sirius had abandoned him. Everyone that Harry loved had abandoned him.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity in the cold darkness, Harry steeled himself, got on his feet and turned around, trying to make his way back to the entrance of the veil, hoping to climb out, somehow. Harry was not usually content to let events just happen, he had to take action. So stepping in to a slow jog, Harry made his way back along the way he came. Somehow he knew he was going in the right direction. Or he hoped he was.  
  
It seemed like he was running for hours, but he kept up the unrelenting pace, determined to leave the veil or run until he found something or collapsed. His pace did not falter, but tears kept streaming out of his eyes as he replayed the casual coldness of his mother's voice in his head, over and over again.  
  
As an orphan, Harry had always imagined a perfect life with his parents, if they had lived. They would love him immensely, and always care for him. They would never speak harshly to him and he would always be a good and respectful child. His mother would love him more than anything, and she would always look at him with love and her voice would always be warm and caring when speaking to him. But when he encountered his mother here, and felt the coldness coming from her voice, something deep within Harry was on the verge of breaking.  
  
That certitude that he had been loved was something that laid the foundation for Harry's entire concept of self. Despite his Aunt Petunia's harshness, Dudley's cruelty, or Uncle Vernon's hatred, Harry had always known that his mother loved him. But when he was confronted with this cold visage of his mother, it cast into doubt that absolute central fact of Harry's life.  
  
It was a terrible feeling, to have his entire world come crashing down around his shoulders making him question who he fundamentally was, and Harry was faced with this sensation as he ran and ran and ran.  
  
Finally Harry saw a glimmer ahead of him. He ran faster toward the glimmer, and to his surprise it turned out to be Remus.  
  
"Remus, what are you doing here?" Harry shouted. "You can't be here, you aren't dead."  
  
"I am now," replied Remus. "But I really must be going. The dead do not wait." Remus kept walking, forcing Harry to turn to catch up with him.  
  
"Wait, Remus, what do you mean you're dead, we saved your life this afternoon, you can't be dead."  
  
"Sorry, Harry, time has no meaning here. I'm dead now, and I must be going. The dead do not wait, especially-"  
  
"I know, I know. Especially for me. What does that mean? Why won't anyone tell me what that means?" Harry screamed to the sky and at the retreating back of Remus.  
  
But no answer was forthcoming. So Harry ran, again.  
  
Another glimmer appeared in front of him, and this time it was the veil itself. Harry ran up to it, only to see Ron and Hermione make their way through the veil, hand in hand.  
  
"R-Ron? Hermione? What are you two doing here?" Harry spluttered, a sinking feeling dropping his stomach to his knees.  
  
"We died Harry, what do you think," Hermione snapped at him. "Now if you'll excuse us, we must be going."  
  
"But, I don't understand, how did you die?" Harry begged.  
  
"I don't really know," replied Ron, coolness in his voice that Harry recognized from his mother's voice. "The last thing I saw was you and a then a green light. But we really have to go, we can't wait."  
  
"You mean to say, the dead do not wait, especially for me," Harry snapped at his best friends.  
  
"Well, yes," agreed Hermione. "But you know Ron, he never remembers anything. Now, I'm sorry Harry but we have to go."  
  
Ron and Hermione started walking away from Harry in the direction that he had just come from.  
  
Harry collapsed against the frame of the veil, helplessness overcoming him. He didn't understand what was going on, where he was, or what his friends or family were doing. His interaction with Ron and Hermione was disturbing. Harry realized that the people he loved were being told something that he couldn't share, something that impacted them even after death.  
  
Harry looked through the veil and saw back into the room he had left. But it was not the same room he had left. When he had started there, the room was empty, desolate, except for him. The room he viewed from this side of the veil was filled with people forming a bizarre, winding line up to the face of the veil. Professor Dumbledore was there at the veil, explaining something to Arthur and Molly Weasley when Harry looked through the veil.  
  
"I'm sorry Molly, but those are the rules. Once you cross through you cannot rest with the person responsible for your death. It is forbidden. The dead wait for no one. Especially the person who caused your death. Now, you must go, but don't worry, Ron and Hermione will be waiting, as will Remus and the others. Please, we have a lot of people to get through, if you will."  
  
Dumbledore pointed to the veil, and sighed. Arthur and Molly nodded their heads, grabbed each others hands in determination and walked through the veil. As they crossed the threshold, Molly immediately saw Harry and great tears welled up in her eyes.  
  
"Oh you poor dear, I'm so sorry Harry," she whispered.  
  
"Come along dear, we must be going," Arthur urged her. "You heard what Dumbledore said."  
  
"No," pleaded Molly. "Arthur, it's not right. It's just not right. It's not fair. Poor Harry, he'll be all alone. He couldn't really be responsible, could he? He couldn't have done it. Maybe I could just stay for a little?"  
  
"No dear. The dead wait for no one, especially..."  
  
"Me," said Harry with a bitter cry.  
  
Pulling her arm, Arthur nodded his head and started walking away from Harry.  
  
Anguish caused determination to spring anew in Harry and he charged for the veil. He expected to be rebuffed or pushed away, but to Harry's surprise he went rushing through and found himself running through the veil, back into the room where he had started.  
  
Pushing past Dumbledore, Harry screamed, an inhuman sound that stunned the room into silence.  
  
"Will someone please tell me what is going on here? I don't understand, please, someone, please tell me."  
  
Dumbledore gently placed his hand on Harry's arm.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry, but we don't have time. We must not delay here. Now if you will please stand aside. Ms. Weasley, Mr. Thomas, you are next?"  
  
Ginny and Dean walked up to Dumbledore, tears in Ginny's eyes. Dean looked at Harry with daggers in his eyes.  
  
"Yes sir," Dean said. "We were killed by Deatheaters because they thought it would upset Harry, so now we're dead, and it's his fault."  
  
Dumbledore nodded his head and sighed. "Thank you, now off you go. Your parents will be expecting you Ms. Weasley. Please hurry."  
  
"I'm sorry Harry," Ginny whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm really sorry."  
  
And Ginny and Dean stepped through the veil, disappearing in front of Harry's eyes. Dumbledore kept the line moving. Every witch or wizard Harry had ever met, including some he didn't know, resolutely marched past him and discussed their deaths with Dumbledore. Every death was related to Harry some how, in some manner. And Harry as responsible for them all.  
  
Dozens, no, hundreds of witches and wizards marched past him. Dumbledore pointed them all through the veil until the last wizard walked through and disappeared. Then Dumbledore looked over at Harry with anguish in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry, but now it's my turn. I must go."  
  
Dumbledore turned and walked towards the veil. Nodding again at Harry, Dumbledore stepped though the veil, disappearing through the misty surface. Infuriated, Harry dove through the veil, trying to grab on to Professor Dumbledore's arm, but instead of following through to the place beyond the veil behind Dumbledore, Harry found himself falling through on to the other side in the same room. It was not dark or cold or full of the people he had watched go through the veil. It was that same dreadful room.  
  
Fury seething through his being, Harry stood up and walked up to the veil. Placing his hands on the sides of the portal, he stuck his head through, expecting to see the darkness. But he didn't. It was as if the veil was now closed off to him and he could not penetrate in to that realm again.  
  
Slamming his hands against the veil in frustration and anger, Harry started screaming in rage.  
  
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND! WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?"  
  
There was no response. There would never be any response. Every person Harry loved was already dead or had just gone through the veil. Every witch and wizard he ever knew, and even others he didn't, had marched silently through the veil. Even Dumbledore, with all his power and wisdom, had to go through the veil. And they all blamed him. Somehow he was responsible for all their deaths.  
  
It wasn't such an impossible thought to Harry. He definitely blamed himself for Cedric's death. For his parents' deaths. And for Sirius' too. It wasn't a stretch for Harry to believe that he had caused, or would cause, directly or indirectly, the deaths of all those others that he cared for. In fact, deep down, Harry knew that those who were closest to him were likeliest to face serious and severe harm as a result of their connection to him.  
  
Harry slumped against the frame of the veil and cried. He cried for his parents, for Cedric, for Sirius. He cried for all those who had gone through the veil, dead because of him.  
  
And he cried for himself. Alone, as all orphans are, as all pawns of prophecy must always be. His sobs were gut wrenching and wracked at his body, his breath came in great heaving sobs, and Harry was so distraught that he almost didn't hear the hideously cruel laughter quietly echoing through the chamber. But as that terrible sound registered, the sense of loss intensified and Harry started howling in pain.  
  
It was in this state, crying out of desperation and desolation that Harry found himself being forced awake by Ron.  
  
"Harry, you have to stop, you have to wake up. It's only a dream, please Harry, stop, I'm here mate, I'm here," Ron whispered fervently, hoping to calm his friend and wake him up.  
  
It was unnerving to Ron, to see his best friend reduced to a weeping mess. He relied on Harry's strength. Needed it, actually. Without being exposed to Harry's determined resolve, or Hermione's love, Ron didn't think he'd be able to make it through any given day. It was what made the three of them so close, so unique. They supported each other in good times, and in bad.  
  
And this was one of the bad.  
  
In fact, Ron thought it might be one of the worst.  
  
Harry had been tossing and turning for hours, muttering to himself, and Ron could hear the emotions that Harry was going through: hope, fear, desperation, anxiety, fury, and then absolute devastation. It was intense and powerful, and Ron found himself waiting anxiously by Harry's side trying to snap his friend out of whatever dream was disturbing Harry's night.  
  
Normally they would end quickly, only a half hour or so. And if it were one of THOSE dreams, the ones with Vol-, well, Him, those were just different, somehow. Ron knew this was not the same type of nightmare Harry had experienced before.  
  
So he watched over his best friend, and waited. But when Harry started to actually weep, his body shaking with the pangs of desolation, Ron had to act. He started by calling out Harry's name, trying to wake him, but to no avail. Then he started nudging his shoulder, then rocking Harry back and forth. Nothing.  
  
Finally, as Harry continued to weep, Ron got scared. Throwing caution to the wind, he physically lifted his friend halfway out of his bed and dropped him back to the bed. Harry's eyes sprang open, bloodshot from the tears and caked with grime from his fitful sleep.  
  
Terror flashed through Harry's eyes, an animalistic sensation that unnerved Ron before sanity came back to Harry's face. Tears were still flowing and Harry looked at Ron with wonder.  
  
"R-ron, you're alive?" he questioned in a shout.  
  
Dumbfounded, Ron nodded. Harry reached out and tentatively touched Ron's arm, grasping it to make sure Ron was really there. Feeling the reality of Ron's arm, Harry sobbed again with relief and grasped hold of Ron in a fierce embrace, weeping with renewed vigor, but finally out of relief or joy or both.  
  
It was Harry's strangled cry of surprise that must have alerted others that something was amiss. Suddenly Hermione and Ginny came bursting into the room, fear and worry etched into their faces. Fred and George were right behind them.  
  
Cautiously they approached the two boys, and Hermione looked at Ron with questioning eyes.  
  
"He had a nightmare and I just got him to wake up out of it," Ron said quietly. "It had to have been pretty bad for him to react like this."  
  
"Do you think it was Voldemort?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron shook his head, slightly flinching at the name. "No, I don't think so. His head doesn't seem to be hurting him, but who knows, maybe it is something new?"  
  
Hermione sighed and climbed on to the bed with them. Reaching around Harry's slender torso, she grabbed hold of him, squeezing to let him know she was there. She was startled when Harry frantically grabbed her hand and squeezed it, holding it close to his heart as he continued to cry. Squeezing his hand back, she rested her head on Ron's shoulder, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to comfort her friend.  
  
Ginny and her twin brothers stood a silent vigil over the trio on the bed, flinching each time Harry gasped for breath. Ginny slowly reached her hands out into the hands of her twin brothers, drawing them close to her as her heart ached in pain for Harry's torment. With a soft sigh she nodded her head at Fred and gave him a look he understood immediately.  
  
Fred quickly summoned a small box from his and George's room and opened it up. Music started silently filling the room, a soft, soothing tune that sounded of hope and calm. As the music played, Ginny started humming, and slowly started singing. Her voice was sweet and pure and filled the room. It was a light and airy tune, the words pleasant but without any real meaning. The meaning came from Ginny's voice. Her voice was filled with hope and friendship and love. She sang through the song until the beautiful melody started replaying itself. Hermione had stared in amazement at the power of this young girl's voice, but was astonished when Fred and George joined her in the song, singing harmony with her.  
  
Their voices were not as perfect as Ginny's, but they complimented her voice and sang with a solemnity that surprised Hermione. It might have been the first time that she ever saw both of them being serious at the same time. But the real surprise for Hermione came when Ron joined in when they reached the chorus.  
  
His tenor voice was strong and clear. His eyes misted over as he joined his siblings in their song, obviously a family song, and he grabbed a tighter hold of Harry as Ginny reached out with Fred and George to grab hold of Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Their voices blended together in a wonderful harmony that made Hermione smile. She could feel Harry's tense body slowly start to relax, and the sobs slowed as the music finally intruded into his desperate thoughts.  
  
From the doorway two more voices joined in, Arthur and Molly, eyes glistening in wonderment as they watched their children close ranks around Harry. The song continued, the voices soaring with deep emotion. Harry relaxed even further and finally stopped crying.  
  
Lifting his head, surprised at the gathering in his room and the wonderful harmony of the voices, Harry licked his lips and tried to speak.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, I can-"  
  
Molly crossed the room and placed a finger on his lips, cautioning him to silence.  
  
"Shh, my dear, we can talk in the morning. You need your sleep. No one has ever had a nightmare after hearing the Weasley lullaby. Relax and go back to sleep. We'll stay and make sure you sleep well."  
  
She rejoined the sweeping harmony while Arthur cast a quick sleepiness charm on Harry, carefully aiming so as not to hit any of the other children surrounding Harry. Harry's eyes glazed over and his head nodded down to his chest.  
  
Hermione and Ron extricated themselves from Harry, and Ron gently made Harry comfortable on his bed. Standing up, grabbing Fred's free hand, the Weasley's formed a semi-circle around Harry's bed and completed their song. Slowly each voice dropped out of the harmony until Ginny's voice was left alone.  
  
"Good night, sleep well," she said, slowly ending the song. The she bent over and placed a kiss on Harry's forehead.  
  
***  
  
"You never told me that you could sing like that," Hermione scolded Ron. "You have a lovely voice."  
  
"Wemph ompl simp some times," Ron said, swallowing his breakfast. It was a quiet morning, the residents of the house were subdued as they waited for Harry to wake up. Of course nothing could stop Ron from needing to eat, so he begged his mother to start breakfast while they waited for Harry to wake up.  
  
"Honestly Ron, do you even chew your food?" Hermione asked, her eyes rolling. "Now, before you take another bite, explain to me why you've never sung for me."  
  
"Well, it's a family song, and it's the only one I sing," Ron said, warning Hermione with his eyes. "We only sing it if someone has a nightmare, so the last time I remember it being sung was several years ago, when Fred and George left for Hogwarts. Ginny woke up crying and Mum and Dad and I sang her back to sleep."  
  
"Well," said Hermione, "I think it's just a lovely song, and you have a wonderful voice. And Ginny, she could sing for a living!"  
  
Ginny happened to walk in to the kitchen at this precise moment, and stopped in the middle of the doorway, blushing.  
  
"Thank you," she said simply. "But I don't think I could ever sing in public. I'd get nervous or something."  
  
"No, really, Ginny," Hermione protested. "I think you have a lovely voice."  
  
"Hey, Ginny," Ron interrupted. "How'd you remember all the words? You never had to sing it or someone, since you're the youngest. You just heard it from us."  
  
"I sang it to myself every night during the summer after my first year, it was the only way I could get to sleep," Ginny said softly, looking down at the table.  
  
Ron's face paled in comprehension. "Oh Gin, I'm sorry," he stammered.  
  
"Don't," Ginny ordered. "Leave it. What's for breakfast?"  
  
Hermione sensed the tension between brother and sister on this topic and decided to leave it alone. She had a decent idea of the genesis of that tension, and decided that today was not the day to try and solve it. Instead she pushed her chair over, making room for Ginny, and pulled a plate of pancakes over for her.  
  
"Pancakes, bacon, juice. Your mom went all out, as usual. She just went upstairs to shower. She's very anxious for Harry to wake up, so I suggested she get that out of the way. Plus it gave her something to do besides worry."  
  
Ginny laughed at the prospect of Hermione tactfully handling the overprotective Weasley mother hen. But, she thought, if anyone was a match for Molly Weasley, besides Ginny herself, it would be Hermione. Reaching for the pancakes, she piled a few on her plate and smothered them with syrup and butter and started to dig in.  
  
Ron had resumed his attempt to devour as many pancakes as possible, so she and Hermione quietly talked as they ate about nothing in particular, both occasionally glancing towards the doorway in hopes of seeing Harry come through.  
  
Fred and George walked through, rumpled with sleep still in their eyes. Grumbling, they sat down and summoned cups of coffee to their side.  
  
"Whose great idea was it to get Mum in the shower?" Fred complained.  
  
"Hermione's," Ron and Ginny said immediately, digging in to their food again.  
  
George glared at Hermione. "Listen, apparently our little brother is so smitten with you that he seems to have forgotten the first, most important rule of survival in the Weasley family."  
  
"Yes," chimed in Fred. "Never, ever encourage Mum-"  
  
"..to get ready in the morning," chimed in George, Ron, and Ginny.  
  
"Why?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Because," groaned Fred. "Once Mum is up and ready for the day, we ALL need to be up and ready. It's only a matter of time before she sweeps us all up and gives us chores for the day."  
  
As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen.  
  
"Good morning Fred, George, Ginny. So glad to see you three are up. Now, let's get you fed and then we will figure out what you are going to do today. You too Ronald."  
  
Her children groaned with dread at the imagined chores their mother had in store for them, so none of them noticed the sly wink she threw at Hermione. Apparently this was a well established game for the Weasley's and Hermione smiled back at her.  
  
Fred and George started protesting that they needed to head to their shop and didn't have time for any chores while Ron and Ginny complained that they needed a quiet day because of their interrupted sleep. The clamor got so loud that none of them noticed a tired looking Harry quietly walk in and pause at the doorway.  
  
Smiling at the chaos, Harry leaned against the door frame and cleared his throat. It was obviously not loud enough for him to grab their attention, so he cleared his throat again.  
  
"Oi," he shouted. "Some of us are just waking up, could you keep it down a little?"  
  
"HARRY!" exclaimed the group in unison.  
  
As a mob they rushed over to Harry and grabbed him in hugs. Hermione looked deep into his eyes with a question on her face.  
  
"I'll be okay," Harry whispered. "It was just a dream. A bloody awful dream."  
  
"I hope you are right," Hermione replied. "But we best tell Dumbledore, just in case."  
  
Harry's eyes flashed and he clenched his jaw but then quickly relaxed and nodded his head. Turning to Ginny he smiled at her.  
  
"You have an amazing voice Ginny. I didn't recognize it at first, but you have a lot of talent."  
  
"I'm just glad it helped," she said blushing.  
  
"Yeah, the Weasley lullaby cures all ailments," laughed George. "I wonder if we could figure out how to package it?"  
  
"That's a great idea," agreed Fred. "Maybe we could put it in a Pensieve and then figure out how to tap into it through the music box."  
  
The twins put their heads together, excitedly talking through the idea when Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"You okay mate?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. It was pretty awful," Harry replied before he was engulfed in another hug from Mrs. Weasley as she dragged him to the table.  
  
"Enough, we can discuss it later, but now you have to eat! You're nothing but skin and bones," said Mrs. Weasley. "Pancakes? Bacon? Juice?"  
  
With each question she piled huge mounds of pancakes and bacon in front of him and poured a tall glass of juice. As she reached for the syrup, she squeezed his hand with affection.  
  
"I suppose you drink coffee now?" Harry shook his head. "Okay then, what else would you like? Some hot cocoa? Ronald," she snapped, "put down that bacon, it's for Harry."  
  
"Aw mum, he couldn't possibly eat all that."  
  
Mrs. Weasley glared at her youngest son, her eyes flashing, but Harry waved her off.  
  
"It is fine Mrs. Weasley, really," Harry said, a small smile creeping on his face. Immediately Mrs. Weasley's features softened and she smiled at Harry. Placing her hands gently on his cheeks, she placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head and quickly conjured up some hot cocoa for him.  
  
"Well, then, since everyone is done eating, except Harry of course, I have a list of chores. We certainly can't expect Dobby and Winky to clean the house all by themselves, there are dozens of rooms for us to clean. I want this house spotless before you go back to school."  
  
"Well, George, old boy, I guess we have to head to the shop. Business calls, after all," grinned Fred.  
  
"Of course partner, of course. Another day another Galleon," George responded, smirking at Ron and Ginny.  
  
"You two hold it right there," commanded their mother. "You'll stay and help us finish this house, then you can go to your shop. The others can't use magic and the rooms that are left are dangerous enough as it is, you wouldn't think of leaving us alone for that now would you?"  
  
"Oh mum, we can't stay, we have a business to run," the twins protested in unison.  
  
"I think I have a solution," interrupted Mr. Weasley from the doorway with an official. "I'm just about to make an important official decree. The age for limitation on the use of underage magic is a major inconvenience for the fight against Voldemort, and apparently the fight against dirt in Harry's own home. Accordingly, I'm changing the requirement. It is no longer based on age, but on experience. Once a witch or wizard passes their O.W.L.s, they can perform magic without restriction. Harry, Ron, and Hermione will be able to use their wands to help you Molly, so I think you can spare Fred and George today."  
  
Noticing their smug grins, Mr. Weasley continued, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I daresay we'll leave a room or two for them to clean out this evening. After all, everyone must contribute."  
  
Laughing at the crestfallen looks the twins gave him as they left the kitchen, Arthur Weasley grinned at his wife. His smile, however, disappeared when he glanced at his youngest child. Since her birth Arthur always had a soft spot for this precocious girl who had captivated his heart immediately. Whenever she wanted something, Arthur was helpless to say no.  
  
Once, when Ginny was 5 years old she had insisted on learning how to fly. She didn't want her brothers to know, and Arthur knew Molly would frown on such escapades. So in the middle of the night the two of them snuck out to the backyard. Arthur patiently explained how to use the broom and the two of them finally took off into the night air. Ginny squealed with delight at the rushing wind and begged for a chance to take control of the broom. Against his better judgment he let her do it and she immediately went into a swirling loop around the house, giggling for all she was worth. After that night, once a week the two of them would do the same thing: sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and fly for a few hours. Molly never asked why the two of them were always tired one morning a week. Of course Arthur was wise enough to realize after years of marriage that nothing ever slipped by Molly's watchful eyes.  
  
Snapping back to reality, Arthur looked innocently at his daughters glaring eyes.  
  
"Sweetheart, don't fret, I have another trick up my sleeve."  
  
"It better be good, father." Ginny was speaking with a calm but furious voice, one she had learned with great skill from her mother.  
  
"Well, you know, I did happen to have a conversation with Mathilda Hopkirk when we changed the requirement and she did happen to draft a special dispensation in case that didn't impact all the people we wanted to help. Of course she left the name blank, so I was trying to figure out whom to give it to. Maybe it would be a good idea for me to think about this a little. I know that friend of yours, Luna, was going to some dangerous places this summer, maybe this would be helpful to her?"  
  
Ginny's stern glare, another gift from her mother that caused Arthur to wonder how this tiny girl could be so imposing, forced Arthur to stop teasing her, despite the enjoyment he was having with it. Molly rolled her eyes at her husband and continued to clean the kitchen, smacking Ron's hand as he reached for the last piece of bacon on Harry's plate.  
  
"All right my dear, alright. Let's see here, where's my quill? Oh dear, I can't find it. We'll just have to wait."  
  
Ginny stomped over to the cupboard, threw the door open, and pulled out a quill her mother used for making notes while she cooked. Grinding her teeth as she returned to her father's side, she thrust the quill into his hand and pointed to the parchment.  
  
With a flourish, Ginny's father affixed her name to the parchment and signed it with his official signature. The parchment glowed brightly for a moment and then returned to its normal state.  
  
"There, it's official and a copy has been filed at my office. Now, I really must get to the office, I have two days worth of meetings just this morning alone."  
  
Mr. Weasley snagged a piece of bacon from Harry's plate, bending his head quickly to look Harry in the eyes. Compassion flowed from Arthur's eyes with a questioning look at Harry. Harry looked at his best friend's father and his eyes moistened, but he shook the tears away and smiled weakly.  
  
"I'm going to be fine," Harry whispered. "It was just-"Arthur interrupted him with a wink and placed his hand fondly on Harry's shoulder with a gentle squeeze.  
  
"No explanations necessary, Harry. We'll always be here for you, all of us. Now, don't let Molly work you all too hard," he said to the rest of the room. "It should take a while for this house to be completely clean and I don't think that Dobby or Winky would approve of an entirely clean house, they'd get bored if we don't leave some rooms for them."  
  
With a merry wave Arthur snatched another piece of bacon off Harry's plate and grinned at his wife's exasperated expression as she fretted over Harry's plate.  
  
"Out, all of you!" she cried. "Harry, you stay and finish your food, no arguments. The rest of you, upstairs. Find a room that still needs cleaning and hop to it. And no cheating by calling Dobby or Winky to help you, they are doing enough as it is and you lot could use some practice now that it's legal. Now march!"  
  
Saluting smartly the Weasley children and Hermione turned abruptly from the kitchen, leaving Harry and Mrs. Weasley alone. Harry realized that there was an agreement to tread carefully around him this morning, and for once he appreciated the reaction from his friends. Continuing to dig in to his food, Harry sighed in contentment as Mrs. Weasley busied herself with cleaning the kitchen.  
  
After several minutes, Mrs. Weasley sat down next to Harry, poured him some more juice and smiled at him.  
  
"Well, dear, I'm glad to see you eating this morning. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of owling Professor Dumbledore about last night."  
  
She paused, giving Harry a moment to absorb this news. Harry realized that he wasn't upset that she had contacted Dumbledore. There was still a lot of work to do between them, to restore Harry's trust in the Headmaster, but over the past few weeks Harry was slowly learning that he couldn't try and do everything on his own and that, on occasion, he actually needed help. Offering a small smile to Mrs. Weasley, Harry nodded his head.  
  
"That's fine, thanks," he said. "I certainly don't want to repeat last night."  
  
Mrs. Weasley nodded her head and rested a hand fondly on Harry's arm.  
  
"None of us do dear, you have been through so much," she said, her eyes welling a bit as she fought back tears. "But we're always here for you. Remember that. Now, before I get too maudlin, finish up your breakfast, you're much too thin. Dumbledore will be here shortly, so you may want to clean up before he gets here."  
  
Harry nodded and quickly cleared his plate. Downing his glass of juice in one swallow, Harry thanked Mrs. Weasley and hurried up to his room for a quick shower. After changing into clean clothes that Dobby had laid out for him while in the shower, Harry headed downstairs to meet with Dumbledore.  
  
Reaching the landing, Harry looked into the sitting room and saw that Dumbledore was already there, staring quietly out the window, watching Muggles walking by on their way to work or school. Smiling faintly at the mysterious clothing and hurried atmosphere, Dumbledore lifted his head up at the sound of Harry's footsteps.  
  
"Good morning Harry," he said gravely. "I hope Molly explained that she contacted me this morning?"  
  
"Good morning sir, and yes she did. Thank you for coming," Harry replied.  
  
Dumbledore smiled a truly genuine smile and Harry saw that the ancient wizard quickly relaxed away some hidden tension.  
  
"Any time, Harry, any time. I am grateful for all that we've accomplished together so far this summer, and I am pleased to be able to try to help you with this. You know the importance of keeping your mind free of Tom's influence and I fear that the past two incidents have me terribly worried."  
  
"What do you mean two?" Harry asked with confusion.  
  
"Remus' hearing is quite superb, he heard you muttering yesterday morning in your conversation with Tom. And last night could only have been a second attempt to bring you to submission. But we can't let that happen. I believe that with Minister Weasley's latest decree, we can safely resume your Occlumency training today."  
  
"I won't let Snape do it, never again," Harry stated flatly.  
  
"No, no I agree. I too have learned from my previous error. No, an old friend of mine has recently reminded me that he is an expert at Occlumency, better perhaps than I myself. I have asked him to join us here today in a few minutes."  
  
"Here? At Headquarters? Is that safe?" Harry asked.  
  
"I believe so. Zebediah is an old and trusted friend. I'll admit that we haven't spoken in years, but he recently contacted me after Cornelius admitted to the media that Voldemort had returned. He was worried about rumors he had read about you, and other stories as well. He was also quite concerned about you Harry. He doesn't know the prophecy, of course, but is aware that as the child of James and Lilly, you are at the center of this war, and he was very worried about your health.  
  
"When I contacted him this morning, he was prepared to join us right away and reminded me that I should have contact him earlier. I suppose he was right, but I have learned from my errors."  
  
Just then the doorbell rang and Dobby came screeching down the stairs to open the door.  
  
"Welcome, welcome to the house of Mr. Harry Potter. Please come in." Dobby bowed elegantly and opened the door widely for the guest to enter. Dumbledore stood up and quickly walked over to greet his friend.  
  
"Zebediah, a pleasure. Thank you for coming," he said warmly. "I'd like to introduce you to Harry Potter. Harry, meet my friend Zebediah."  
  
Harry got out of his chair and turned to face Dumbledore and his friend. As he turned and looked at the two ancient wizards his jaw fell open in disbelief.  
  
"M-Mr. Smith?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes suspiciously and turned his head towards the man Harry seemed to somehow know.  
  
"You two have met?" he asked. 


	15. Dangerous Interludes

Chapter Fifteen – Dangerous Interludes  
  
Penelope Clearwater was beside herself with worry. She hadn't heard from her boyfriend, Percy Weasley, in days and he hadn't been to their home since his father had been named Minister of Magic. Penelope was marginally aware of the events of that day, having heard enough gossip and read between the lines in the articles of the Daily Prophet, and she knew that Percy would have taken that day badly.  
  
Penelope had never really understood why Percy and his family stopped talking. Despite her tremendous love for Percy, she did realize that he could be a little rigid and that he took rules and authority very, very seriously. Despite her love for him, however, she had become increasingly concerned over the past year when Percy delved further and further into Cornelius Fudge's confidence.  
  
Percy had been so pleased when Dolores Umbridge was sent to Hogwart's and then was promoted to work in even closer contact with Fudge. His days became longer and longer, until it felt like she forgot what he looked like. When she did see him he was often exhausted or surly. He would rant about various injustices; perceived or real, she could never tell.  
  
But his admiration of Cornelius Fudge was boundless. Percy believed everything that Fudge ever told him and was firmly convinced that Fudge was all that was keeping the magical world safe and running in an orderly manner.  
  
When Arthur Weasley was attacked at the Ministry last year, Penelope was horrified. Convinced that the tragic event could help pave the way for some form of reconciliation between Percy and his family, she had attempted to start the process by drafting a short note to attach to flowers. But Percy went into such a terrible rage over the whole ordeal when he came home, screaming about traitors and foul plots, that she quickly burned her note before he saw it.  
  
And then it happened. That awful night at the Ministry where Fudge was finally convinced that the Dark Lord had returned. Penelope, being a former Ravenclaw, was too intelligent not to have her doubts about the Ministry's denials ever since Dumbledore had made his own announcement about the foul creature's return. Of course that evil man had returned; it was the only explanation for all of the evil events in the wizarding world over the past year. And who would ever dare doubt Albus Dumbledore?  
  
Penelope hoped that this might finally be the precipitating action that would force her beloved into accepting that Dumbledore was right, that his parents were right, and that the Ministry needed to prepare and stand ready to face the onslaught that she knew from history was coming.  
  
But again Penelope was disappointed. Percy and Fudge tried to salvage the Ministry's floundering reputation. Fudge tried to pretend he had a plan, and Percy was sucked deeper and deeper into the flailing chaos that was Fudge's Ministry.  
  
And now, several days after Fudge was justifiably removed and Percy's father (what a surprise that was!) was named the Minister, her boyfriend, her partner, her soul mate still had not come home.  
  
It was with this sense of desperation, and her love for Percy, that she finally reached out for help. She wrote a brief note to her former professors, the head of her old House and the head of Percy's. She hoped that they might be able to help find Percy, or maybe they could have Dumbledore help. Penelope neither wondered what Percy would say, nor did she particularly care at this point. She would take any scolding, any temper tantrum, any cold shoulder he would throw at her, just so long as she knew that he was safe. That was paramount in her mind.  
  
As she waited for her two favorite professors to arrive she paced back and forth in the tiny living room in their apartment. Percy's family was unaware that they were living together, in fact she wasn't even sure if Percy's family even really knew that they were still dating.  
  
"That insufferable, red-headed fool," she grumbled to herself as she continued pacing back and forth. Finally the appointed hour arrived and she heard two loud pops as Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonnagal appeared.  
  
"Professors, oh, thank you for coming," she exclaimed. "I really do appreciate your coming."

XXX

"Malfoy, tomorrow is the day. We'll be rid of you for good," the Auror sneered at him. Tossing a platter of food at the disheveled Death Eater, the Auror quickly turned around in disgust and walked away. He understood the need for Aurors to guard over these loyal followers of the Dark Lord, he sighed and shook his head at the inability to call him by name, despite the urging of Harry Potter. Some habits were too hard to break. But he understood why Azkaban wasn't safe any more, despite the fact that he still felt like his talents were being wasted.  
  
But great changes were happening in the ranks of the Aurors, and the Ministry, and everyone knew not to argue with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ever since the Minister Weasley had promoted Kingsley, the Aurors knew changes were going to happen. Plans were being made to bring the war to the enemy. They wouldn't sit back and wait for events to unfold any longer. Now the Aurors were finally going to be able to be more than the mop-up crew for a geriatric wizard (though powerful indeed) and his motley crew of has-beens and children.  
  
Of course, that motley crew had certainly done more than its fair share, he smiled ruefully to himself. To not even be sixteen years old and lead a group of friends, some even younger, well, that took a massive amount of courage. Nodding his head at a fellow Auror-turned-jailer, he sat down at the small table and sighed.  
  
"Relax, it's almost over," his co-worker reassured him. "Kingsley told me this morning that after we deliver Malfoy to his punishment tomorrow, we can transport the rat to Hogwarts. Dumbledore thinks he can keep an eye on that weird orb thing the rat is trapped in, so we'll be free to get back to some real work."  
  
"Thank Merlin. I was beginning to wonder why I spent the past five years working my way up through the ranks. I know it should be an honor to be guarding these two, considering how important they are, but it still feels like we're being punished."  
  
The two Aurors nodded in commiseration at each other and began eating their meal in silence, neither of them registering the soft muttering coming from Malfoy's cell.

XXX

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you mean," Percy said with a plaintive voice. "You know I don't agree with my family, but there's nothing that can be done. The laws were followed quite closely and there's nothing we can do until the next election."  
  
"Percy, my dear young man, you aren't getting the point," said Fudge with his greasy voice. "By then it will be too late. Your precious father will have cemented his power and he'll never give it up. I doubt he'd even stand for election; he'll just serve for as long as he wants. That has been done in the past you know."  
  
"Yes, Minister, I do recall my history. Why you, yourself, were supposed to stand for election this winter, though, now that we are speaking of it I don't really recall you making any preparations for that..." Percy's face grew contorted as he thought about that.  
  
"Never mind, Percy," snapped Fudge. "I was fairly certain that I would win, and didn't see the need to waste precious time fretting about it. Now, what are we to do about your father?"  
  
"I honestly don't know, Minister. Perhaps the best bet is to wait for him to fail, and then we can point out that you would be the natural candidate to replace him. Surely by then the Ministry will be clamoring for your return, and the public will demand your restoration to deal with the crisis."  
  
"I'm afraid we can not afford to wait for that eventuality. I must be restored to the Ministry, immediately," Fudge said with fervor.  
  
"Minister, I don't understand," began Percy before being cut off by Fudge.  
  
"You will, Percy. You will understand the appropriate use of power."  
  
A look of confusion crossed Percy's face as he tried to understand what Cornelius Fudge was saying. The confused look quickly gave way to one of shock when he heard a door open behind him and a nauseatingly familiar voice shouted from the darkness.  
  
"IMPERIO!" the high pitched feminine voice cried.  
  
Percy tried, he really tried, to dodge the spell. But months, no years, of sitting at a desk and ignoring other pursuits outside of his job had taken their toll, even on the body of a young man. He wasn't fast enough to duck the spell and as its effects overwhelmed his mind, Percy thought he heard his own voice let out a whimpering cry in the recesses of his mind.

XXX

"Mother, would you please stop crying?" demanded Draco. "At least I had the foresight to transfer some of the family gold to my personal vault, so the Ministry couldn't legally touch it."  
  
"But Draco," sobbed Narcissa. "What you transferred is barely enough to live on, our homes are being ransacked by those filthy Aurors, my friends won't talk to me, and we are not allowed to talk with your father. Of course I'm upset."  
  
"Didn't father teach you anything?" spat Draco. "Never, ever, let the enemy see you rattled. I'll find a way out of this, as will father. It is only a matter of time before the Dark Lord frees him. Father is his most trusted and valued follower."  
  
"Don't be stupid," Narcissa sneered. "Your father was only valuable to Him when he had his fortune. Now he's just another wizard, and after tomorrow, he won't even be that. And we can't even help him get out."  
  
Narcissa started weeping again at the thought of her husband being reduced to the status of a mere muggle. It was too much for her. Damn that Harry Potter. Damn Albus Dumbledore!  
  
"Not so, Narcissa. Not so at all."  
  
It was a cold and cruel voice, one that Narcissa had feared she would hear this day, but even so her body shivered at the evil voice. She hadn't heard him appear, but a being of his power would most certainly be capable of masking the sounds of his own apparition. How he knew where the two of them were hiding, she did not know. Throwing a quick glance at her son, she realized that she didn't even want to think about how he might have known where they were. Quickly rubbing the tears out of her eyes and putting on her best subservient smile, she bowed low and kissed the hem of his robes.  
  
"My Lord, I do not understand. How can we serve you?"  
  
As Voldemort detailed his plot, Narcissa's eyes widened, first in fear, then in horror. She didn't see the slow, creeping smile flit across her son's mouth as the Dark Lord explained his plans to them. If she did, her level of concern would have increased tremendously.

XXX

"I thought you had a girlfriend," the girl said accusingly as she dug her feet into the sand.  
  
"Well, she's not here now, is she?" the boy replied with a slick smile and mischievous look on his face. "It's not like either you or I want a relationship. It's just a summer fling, right?"  
  
"I guess," the girl said. "And I am pretty lonely. Why don't you sit down here next to me? Where did you say you went to school again?"  
  
"Oh, erm, it's a small private boarding school in Scotland."  
  
"Didn't you say its name was 'Hogwarts' or something like that? Such an odd name, but I guess they have lots of odd names up there. Say, have you ever eaten haggis? It seems a little gross to me, but up there I bet they do a good job with it."  
  
"Oh, erm, no, we just eat normal fare. Nothing too exotic," the boy said, sitting down next to her, taking her hand into his. "Say, why don't I put some more lotion on your back?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"Sure," she replied. "And if you have nice hands, maybe you don't have to stop there."  
  
The boy blushed at this, but eagerly poured out some suntan lotion onto his hands.  
  
"Do you come here every summer?" she asked as he started rubbing her back with firm, strong strokes.  
  
"Nope, this is my first time."  
  
"Well, it's a great place. I just love this beach. That feels nice," she purred as he rubbed her back, "do my legs too, please."  
  
The boy gulped, but continued rubbing lotion down her lithe body.  
  
"Say, I don't think you told me your full name. I'm Amy. Amy Whitestone."  
  
"Oh, erm, I'm-" the boy started to say his name when Amy started giggling as he caressed her feet.  
  
"Oh that tickles. My turn."  
  
With that, she grabbed the bottle of lotion and splashed some over his chest. Pushing him back on the blanket she crawled languidly on top of him, her hands rubbing the lotion into his chest as she rocked back and forth across his hips. She seemed unconcerned about the rather obvious effects her position had on the boy, and giggled at the blush that creeped up along his face.  
  
"Oh, that feels nice," the boy moaned. "What was the name of this beach again?"  
  
"Brighton Beach."

XXX

"S-Severus?" a pathetic man whimpered at the door, barely knocking on the dungeon's entrance.  
  
The door flew open and the dark and brooding figure of Severus Snape stood glowering in the center. An eerie light was glowing in the background and the smell of several potions brewing was overwhelming.  
  
"How dare you disturb me, and here of all places. Weren't you told never to come here?" Snape sneered at the man.  
  
"Our-our Master ordered me here," he stuttered. "He knew Dumbledore would be gone at this moment and needed to give you some orders. He is most displeased with your failure to capture the boy and wonders about your loyalty."  
  
"Our Master knows that I am loyal," Snape spat at the man. "And he knew the odds of actually capturing Potter were slight at best. He also knows that I must stay here to show my faithfulness to Dumbledore, else my cover is blown. Now tell me what the Master really said, or I'll feed you one of my more interesting potions."  
  
Cowering in fear, the filthy wizard nodded his head. "You are to get free as soon as possible and return to his side. And you are to bring him some of Dumbledore's hair. He wants a polyjuice potion of Dumbledore for his plans."  
  
Fortunately Severus Snape was a master at controlling his emotions. He simply nodded in affirmation at his orders.  
  
"Leave, now, before Dumbledore returns. I will not be able to explain your presence."  
  
The little man nodded his head and quickly turned around, stalking away from the dungeon. Fortunately he was walking quickly and the noise of his feet stomping on the cold stone masked the sound of the painful groan from behind the chamber door he had just left.  
  
"Albus," said Snape in an agonized voice. "What can I do?"

XXX

The goblins in charge of security at Gringotts were getting worried. For the past several days the outer security wards were being probed for weakness in lightning fast strikes. When the goblins and their hired wizard curse breakers arrived at the sites of the latest attacks, there were no traces of the individuals responsible. While they were able to maintain the sanctity of their wards, a disturbing pattern was becoming more and more clear. Only the top leaders of the security forces, and their most trusted wizard curse breaker, were aware of the significance of the pattern taking shape in the well-designed attacks. Bill Weasley was the first individual to see an underlying pattern and once his suspicions were confirmed he immediately told his superiors. At first they were skeptical, goblins were proud creatures, but the fact that Bill had been able to predict the next three attacks had terrified the goblins. It was with this fear in mind that they had authorized an unprecedented level of cooperation with the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Bill was the natural representative from both since his father was the new Minister and Bill was also a member of the Order.  
  
Bill had spent the past several hours with his supervisors trying to find new ways to blend some unique protective spells with the magic goblins used to protect their banks and treasures. While compatible, unless the spells were linked carefully, their effectiveness was vastly diminished. After many false leads, Bill thought he had figured out a new way to link the protective wards in a way that would make Gringotts second only to Hogwarts in overall security.  
  
Convincing his goblin bosses, however, was a difficult thing to do. After an hour long meeting with various security goblins trying to poke holes in Bill's theory, Bill's patience was wearing thin. He could tolerate legitimate questions or doubts, but one of his questioners was obviously searching for highly improbable lines of attack, even for Voldemort and his forces. And Bill knew that there were more likely lines of attack that would severely compromise the wards. But he had been forbidden from talking about them because plans were already being made by a select few to strengthen those weaknesses.  
  
"Ringhook, sir, while I do not doubt Voldemort's ability to rally dark creatures to his side," Bill sighed, "but I doubt even he could compel three dozen dragons to attack the same point of the ward shield while all of his Deatheaters attacked at an opposite point with an ancient spell that half of them don't have the power to perform."  
  
"Aha!" shouted Ringhook. "So you admit to a flaw in the protection?"  
  
"Yes," said Bill with a slump to his shoulders. "In the unlikely event that those events happen, and we are unable to disrupt them, then the new wards would fall. But I think that is a risk worth taking. By the time the attack got underway, we would take the offensive against them, as would the Ministry and the Order. There would be no way they could concentrate long enough to perform the necessary incantations."  
  
"But it could happen," Ringhook snarled again. "Until you bring us a flawless defense, we can not risk making any changes."  
  
Bill sighed and shook his head in despair. He knew, perhaps better than any one individual in the room, that Ringhook was the laziest goblin present. Bill also knew that Ringhook didn't like his father and had reacted quite badly upon hearing the news that Cornelius Fudge had been removed from his office. As Bill started to prepare another argument on his behalf, the head of security raised his gnarled hand in warning to both Bill and Ringhook.  
  
"Enough arguing," the ancient goblin said in a tired voice. "Mr. Weasley, your idea is well researched and probably the best thing we can come up with in this short time. You are authorized to proceed immediately. Ringhook, your objections are noted, and possibly legitimate. You are authorized to continue researching flaws in Mr. Weasley's plans and bring them back for our review. This matter is closed."  
  
With the finality in his voice the ancient goblin stood with great dignity and exited the room. His immediate deputies quietly followed suit and soon only Bill and Ringhook were left in the chamber. Casting a calm glance in the direction of his goblin opponent, Bill stood and extended his hand.  
  
"Thank you for pointing out the flaw you discovered. I will try to find a way to eliminate that threat."  
  
When the lazy goblin did not stand or reach for his hand, and instead just glared at Bill, Bill sighed and turned to leave. As he walked out of the room he did not hear the soft shuffling sound of a younger goblin entering the chamber from a side entrance.  
  
"Well, what do we do now?" the young goblin asked.  
  
"We let our contact know what spells are being used, and we try to get some of our friends onto the team that will work with Weasley, that way we can bring the wards down when necessary," said Ringhook.  
  
"Won't he be expecting some form of treachery from you at this point?"  
  
"Yes, but that's why I will recommend some of the names, but you will recommend those that we truly want. That way he'll find plausible reasons to reject mine and be stuck with yours."  
  
"Excellent. And are we sure of our reward?"  
  
"Yes, the guarantees are sufficient."  
  
The two goblins smiled greedily at the thought of new riches at their disposal once this was all completed.  
  
"Now, quickly, you must be back before Weasley gets suspicious. You need to tell our contact of our plans and outline the weaknesses we have found in the new wards. Especially those weaknesses we did not point out to Weasley. He is blind to his own power, like all wizards."  
  
The younger goblin nodded his head fervently and quickly departed. Ringhook smiled at his young friend's eagerness and relished the idea of gaining power over all goblins and over all the gold. It was going to be a good day when it finally happened and he was finally in charge without having to convince his fellow goblins to cede power to him.


	16. Teach your children well

Chapter Sixteen – Teach your children well  
  
"Yes, we have met Albus," Mr. Smith replied. "I met Harry at the beginning of this summer. It's actually what made me decide to get involved in the world's affairs again."  
  
Dumbledore was stunned. How was it possible that Smith had met Harry without his knowledge? Any use of magic around Harry was immediately registered by one of his many devices in his study, and outside of those events that Albus already knew of, there was no unexplained magic. Nothing.  
  
"May I enquire how this happened?" Dumbledore asked, frustration edging into his voice. In fact, Dumbledore was furious and both Harry and Mr. Smith seemed to understand that. Harry was concerned, but he could sense that Mr. Smith was amused.  
  
"Professor, I didn't know he was a wizard, honest. I thought he was in charge of the park where I worked this summer. We cleaned it up, and well, we talked. Not about anything we weren't supposed to, honest. But he befriended me when I couldn't bear to talk with anyone who already knew me. And he also helped me buy my new clothing. He took me shopping and let me just be myself."  
  
"I didn't tell him I was a wizard, Albus. You know how I feel about that. That hasn't changed. But I've kept track of things and I knew you'd make a mess of things with your misguided approaches. The boy just needed a friend, and you locked him away with those stupid relatives of his. I had to take some action-- even I know the world is at risk. And up too much has already been taken from me to sit idly by when I can be of help."  
  
Dumbledore slowly looked back and forth between the two of them, not entirely sure what to think. He was accustomed to knowing every detail, being in full command of the facts. This was a surprise, and he hoped there would be no negative repercussions.  
  
"Harry, if you will, Zebediah and I need to talk privately. Perhaps you could inform your friends of what has transpired?" A brief smile appeared on Dumbledore's grim face. "They will have discovered, no doubt, that their remarkable tool stopped working the moment you opened that door."  
  
With a very faint twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore gestured sharply to Mr. Smith and together they walked towards the kitchen. Harry felt, somehow, the power of Dumbledore's magic as kitchen was sealed off from physical or magical eavesdropping. Clearly Dumbledore was upset, and Harry was determined to find out why. Both because it was useful to know which buttons actually worked against the powerful wizard, and so Harry could choose whether to press them in the future.  
  
Grinning to himself, he turned to the stairs and ran up to the first landing. As Dumbledore had predicted, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting there heatedly whispering to each other about why the extendable ears were not working. None of them had heard Harry's mad dash up the stairs, so were startled when he appeared before them.  
  
"Dumbledore blocked them," Harry said quietly, inserting himself seamlessly into the conversation. "He didn't want you to hear the conversation I was going to have with my new tutor on Occlumency, but things didn't go according to Dumbledore's plans."  
  
"What does that mean," asked Hermione suspiciously.  
  
"Well," said Harry. "Remember that Mr. Smith I told you about? The guy at the park and who helped me buy my clothes?"  
  
When all three nodded in affirmation Harry continued.  
  
"Well, apparently he's a wizard."  
  
"Bloody hell," whispered Ron in amazement. "Did Dumbledore know?"  
  
"Ronald, language," Hermione snapped in a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at his girlfriend and grinned at Harry.  
  
"No, Dumbledore was stunned when I knew Mr. Smith," said Harry. "It was kind of odd. Dumbledore is usually entirely in control and here he was completely bewildered. And very upset."  
  
"Well of course he was upset," Hermione sighed. Seeing the confused looks on the faces of Hand Ron, she continued. "Harry, he wants to protect you as much as possible. He's still concerned about all of the events of last year, and feels like he needs to know what is going on to protect you. The fact that some unknown wizard was able to spend days or weeks with you, without his knowledge, probably terrified him. If a good wizard could have done that, why couldn't an unknown Deatheater?"  
  
Harry sighed at Hermione's usual brilliant insight. Of course Dumbledore would be worried that this mysterious master at Occlumency would already be known to Harry. As an occlumens, Mr. Smith would be able to hide anything from Dumbledore, and could potentially be a threat. While Harry doubted very much that Mr. Smith presented any form of a threat to himself or the Order, it did put a new light on Dumbledore's reaction now that he thought about it.  
  
Then again, there seemed to be something almost personal about Dumbledore's reaction to Mr. Smith. They obviously knew each other, and had a history of some form. Harry was very curious to find out what that was all about, and he wanted to know why Mr. Smith felt odd about being a wizard.  
  
Ginny snapped him out of his reverie by stomping on his foot, trying to get his attention.  
  
"Hello? Earth to Harry? Are you in there?" she asked with a grin. "Care to inform us about what you thoughts are, or do we have to guess?"  
  
"No, erm, it's just, there's a lot to question, as always, and I really want to find out more about Mr. Smith. He seemed to be hesitant about helping, something about rejoining the world. Why did he leave? Who is this guy?"  
  
"It's easy to figure out, Harry," said Hermione. "All we have to do is..."  
  
"Go to the library!" said Harry and Ron in unison, finishing Hermione's sentence for her with matching grins.  
  
"I knew I'd be a good influence on you," she smiled and marched up the stairs to the room full of books that Sirius had left her.  
  
As the four of them started rummaging through the books, it fell upon Hermione to decide the best plan of action. She separated them into two groups, her and Ron, Harry and Ginny. The groups separated and started looking for books that described the battles against Grindelwald. When Harry and Ron expressed confusion about that, she patiently explained that since Dumbledore and Smith knew each other, and both were seemingly ancient wizards, this was the best place to start. Plus, Hermione reminded them that she had painstakingly reviewed lists of all members of the Order from the first rise of Voldemort and knew that Mr. Smith had never been in the Order. So he had to come from previous war.  
  
Their research plan decided, the two pairs split the library in half trying to find anything that would help them. Since this was not the Hogwarts library, there was no obvious cataloguing system. Instead the library seemed to be sorted in different ways, reflecting the numerous owners of the house over the centuries. Hermione was growing more and more frustrated at her inability to figure out where appropriate books would be located. She was quietly gathering a massive pile of books in the center of the room, all the while muttering to herself about the need to impose some order on the library. Meanwhile, Ron was randomly picking books off her pile and flipping through the pages to see if he saw Mr. Smith's name.  
  
Harry and Ginny were not having any greater success, though their pattern of researching was perhaps better than Ron's. Ginny, delighted at the opportunity to use magic outside of school, quietly cast several cleaning charms to clear off the dust from the spines of the books. Harry quietly scanned each shelf, looking for books that might have some benefit. While he picked fewer books to review more carefully than Hermione, he too had built up quite a large pile of books in the center of the room.  
  
It took them over two hours just to rifle through all of the books. They finally all sat down on the floor and started picking out books to read through, hoping for any clue as to who Mr. Smith really was. After another hour of leafing through books had passed, Ginny excitedly jumped up and thrust the book in her hands into Harry's face.  
  
"Harry, look, it's him!"  
  
As Harry focused on the book in front of him he saw a scowling photo of Mr. Smith looking ominously through the pages up at Harry. He was much younger in this photo and the photo seemed to have been taken from a battlefield from the war with Grindelwald, after an apparent victory against Grindelwald's forces.  
  
Excitedly, Harry quickly looked at the cover of the book and his jaw dropped open in surprise. This was not a book Ginny should have been reading. He wasn't even sure if he should be reading it.  
  
"Ginny, that's not a good book to read," whispered Harry in awe. "How do you know it wasn't booby-trapped?"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Harry a sarcastic look. Nodding her head at Hermione, Ginny smiled and shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"Harry, Si- that is, erm, last summer we cleared out the library of dangerous books when we learned that Hermione was going to stay here. Everyone was worried that she'd start reading everything as soon as she found this place. Remus and," she sighed and continued in a small voice, "Sirius, well, they put all the dangerous books in Sirius' study. Hermione won't be able to get at them until she learns the proper spells, which should be next year."  
  
"Oh," Harry said quietly, small tears suddenly appearing in his eyes at the thought of Sirius. Shaking his head at the emotion, he turned his head to look out the window. Hermione, sensing his distress, took the book out of his hands and started reading through the description of Mr. Smith.  
  
"It says here that Mr. Smith," she said, summarizing what she was reading, "was one of Dumbledore's closest friends throughout the war with Grindelwald, until near the end. Mr. Smith's wife was taken captive by Grindelwald's followers and she was tortured to death.  
  
"This book is sick!" she exclaimed. "It describes exactly how the poor woman was tortured, and even suggests other methods that could have been used. Who would write this stuff?"  
  
"The bastard who killed my wife."  
  
All heads turned towards the library door where Mr. Smith was standing. He was no longer dressed in muggle clothes and was dressed as any other wizard would have been dressed. His dark blue robes had the softness of age, but seemed to be in good condition. In his hand he held his wand, surprising Harry who was struggling with the concept of Mr. Smith as a wizard.  
  
Zebediah crossed the room in a few quick strides and took the book out of Hermione's hands. Firmly closing it, he placed it back on a shelf and drew himself a chair in midair. A large firm leather chair plunked down onto the floor and he sat down, grasping the book in his hands.  
  
"The Foul Foes of Grindelwald by Jehan Vorster. As you can tell it was not an adulatory book. It did not praise those of us that worked for the demise of that foul creature. No, Vorster was a chief lieutenant of Grindelwald, and he wrote this book as a way of advising future Dark wizards on how to avoid his fate. He wrote it during his trial, which took months and months after Albus killed Grindelwald. Only a few dozen copies were ever made, printing was halted when the book was discovered, but enough of the wrong families got their own copies. This is a foul and nasty book, by a dark and evil man."  
  
Mr. Smith kept clenching his hands, his fingers turning white from the strain and he lapsed into a silence that Harry found disturbing. He could relate to the pain that he heard in Mr. Smith's voice, and he steeled himself at the temptation offered there, to dive back in to his own grief. Harry looked at his friends, unsure of what to say, where to start. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all glanced helplessly back at Harry and shrugged their shoulders. Harry decided to wait for Mr. Smith to keep talking and patiently waited as the minutes ticked by. Eventually Mr. Smith sighed and looked up at the four of them.  
  
"But, that's decades past and we have things to do. I came back for a particular reason, young Harry, and I intend to see it completed so I can return to my quiet life. You have much to learn, and apparently I'm the only one that is safe enough to teach you what you need to know."  
  
Mr. Smith's eyes flashed at his last comment, and Harry could tell that he was upset. Harry was not certain about the reasoning behind Mr. Smith's distress, but he was determined to find out.  
  
"How exactly are you going to teach Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing with protective fire. "He's had a particularly bad summer and the last thing he needs is more stress."  
  
"Hermione, relax, it's okay, he's a good guy. I trust him," Harry smiled at her and turned to look at Mr. Smith. "He's going to teach me Occlumency. I need to shield that bastard from my mind, and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn enough to probe into his. Get some advantages out of this stupid scar."  
  
Mr. Smith smiled grimly at Harry's determined expression and nodded his head in confirmation. "Exactly. I intend to have you adequately trained within a week. Which means constant work and an enormous amount of dedication. But I think you are up to the challenge."  
  
Mr. Smith stood and made his chair vanish. Beckoning Harry with a finger, the two of them left the library and headed to one of the many empty rooms in the house. Harry realized he had never been in this room and was surprised to see that it was completely empty. The walls were a bare plain white, the floor uncovered, revealing dark wooden plats, and there was no furniture present. This was bound to be uncomfortable.  
  
Grinning at the forlorn look on Harry's face, Mr. Smith quickly muttered a few spells and the room immediately started to take on a more comfortable aspect. A thick rug appeared and unrolled itself across the middle of the room, followed by two large leather chairs similar to the one he had used in the library, and two small tables next to the chairs. A splash of color appeared on one wall and slowly spread around all the walls, giving them a faint blue color that warmed the room considerably. Finally two lamps appeared near the chairs, giving off a soft glow.  
  
Plopping down into one chair, Mr. Smith made himself comfortable. He removed his shoes, massaged his temple, and gestured to Harry to take the other chair. Placing his wand on the table near him, Mr. Smith slowly started stretching his arms and back in a pattern that Harry could tell was borne of decades of practice. Harry started mimicking those movements, to Mr. Smith's obvious pleasure, and slowly felt the tension in his neck and shoulders dissipate. Harry was surprised by how tense he was, and as he continued stretching, he realized that he was accustomed to the pressure in his neck. With a small grin he shook his head at the absurdity of that realization and reminded himself to take better care of his body's needs in the future.  
  
After several minutes of stretching, Mr. Smith finally stopped and picked up his wand again. At a slight gesture, Harry did the same.  
  
"Now Harry, Albus has informed me of your previous training in this area. Let's see what you've learned. I want you to prepare for me to invade your mind, try to prevent it. Ready?"  
  
Harry nodded and tried to clear his mind, as Professor Snape had instructed him in the past. Dimly he heard Mr. Smith cast a spell. Memories flooded through Harry's mind, overwhelming his attempt to block the intrusion, and he found himself reliving the last attack he had suffered at his Aunt and Uncle's house. He started shouting and realized that this was in his mind. Gathering his strength, he pushed back against the invasion and forced Mr. Smith from his mind.  
  
Snapping back to reality, he found himself sprawled on the floor, having fallen from the chair, and he was sweating profusely. Grimly, Mr. Smith pulled him up and offered him a drink from a pitcher that he must have conjured.  
  
"Harry, that was absolutely unacceptable. I don't understand what you were trying to do at all."  
  
"I was just doing what I was told, trying to clear my mind. But that's hard, I'm sorry."  
  
Mr. Smith stared at Harry in disbelief. He didn't say anything to Harry, obviously trying to control his temper.  
  
"You were doing what?" he asked, biting each word off as he spoke them, his fists clenching and unclenching in anger.  
  
"Erm, I was trying to clear my mind, that's what Snape told me to do," Harry said defensively. He was not pleased that this first attempt went so badly, and the fact that Mr. Smith was obviously upset embarrassed Harry. Smith knew that Harry had been having a particularly bad summer. Didn't Smith know that Harry's defenses were probably weaker than normal? Shaking with angry frustration, Harry slumped down into the chair.  
  
"Harry," Mr. Smith started, obviously trying to control his temper. "Do you mean to tell me that the only technique you have learned is to clear your mind? Nothing else?"  
  
"Yes," Harry replied defensively. "That's all Snape taught me. I was to clear my mind and expel any intrusions. He also wanted me to clear my mind every night, but that was hard to do."  
  
"ALBUS!" Mr. Smith roared angrily, his voice magically amplified so that it seemed to shake the entire house. "GET UP HERE NOW!"  
  
Moments passed by as Harry stared uncomprehendingly at Mr. Smith. Was he angry with Harry? The rage emanating from Mr. Smith was palpable and Harry was becoming frustrated with the lack of explanation for his anger. When Dumbledore opened the door and walked in, he had obviously regained his composure from earlier. Glancing between the two occupants of the room, Dumbledore looked at Mr. Smith calmly.  
  
"You called?"  
  
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WAS THAT IDIOT DOING TO HARRY?" Mr. Smith roared.  
  
"I'm not sure I understand," Dumbledore replied calmly, his eyes reflecting his confusion. "Which individual are we talking about?"  
  
"SNAPE! He hasn't taught Harry the first thing about Occlumency, Snape started him off at the highest level and expected him to survive."  
  
"I don't follow," Dumbledore said, his voice becoming strained with concern.  
  
Mr. Smith sat down in his chair with a flourish and quickly conjured a chair for Dumbledore. It did not appear as comfortable as the ones he had conjured for himself or Harry, but Dumbledore sat down without any apparent fuss.  
  
"Snape has had Harry trying to clear his mind, a skill that takes years to fully master. It's like being thrown head first into a dragon's mouth with a tissue as protection. Harry doesn't know the first thing about Occlumency, and he has only survived this long due to the natural strength of his mind."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes flashed fire and he turned his gaze to Harry.  
  
"I see," he said, his voice clipped with tight control. "I had hoped that the situation was not as bad as that, but I see my error in hoping that Severus and Harry would get along has hurt many of us."  
  
He turned to look at Mr. Smith, an apology in his eyes. "I trust that you will be able to remedy the situation? Of course, once term starts Harry and I will be able to continue your lessons together. If that is acceptable to you both."  
  
Mr. Smith curled his lips at Dumbledore's implied apology and shook his head with a sigh. "I have much more to do than I thought, but I believe that Harry is up to the task. He knows he doesn't have a choice, so he'll survive, I'm sure."  
  
"Would the two of you mind explaining to me what in blazes you are talking about? I don't have a clue what you are saying and I'm sitting right here."  
  
"I apologize Harry," said Dumbledore. "But Mr. Smith will explain. I guarantee you that he is trustworthy, and he will help you immensely. As I have said repeatedly since the end of term, I made grave mistakes, and I intend to rectify them. However, I must leave, Arthur needs me at the Ministry and I am already late."  
  
As Dumbledore swept from the room, Mr. Smith took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Harry, it's like this," he explained. "Occlumency is a complicated and confusing art. What Snape asked you to do was start at the end, rather than the beginning. There are techniques and skills that can be used to train your mind so that you can do as he asked and clear your mind. But you are young and inexperienced in controlling your emotions or thoughts. I believe that you recognize the need for greater control over your temper, your feelings?"  
  
Satisfied at Harry's nodding head, Mr. Smith continued.  
  
"Well, you can't start at the point of clearing your mind. No one can. So let's start from the beginning. I want you to search your memory and think of something personal about which you know every detail. Something like a favorite stuffed animal, a toy, something that is small and simple to think about. Now, close your eyes and search your memory."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and let various objects float through his mind. He saw glimpses of things from Hogwarts: his trunk, his wand, his father's invisibility cloak, his broom. He kept sorting through items, trying to find something that would work. He saw Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. He smiled and recalled the instruction to think of something small, Hagrid certainly didn't fit that description. He needed to think of something smaller. He saw Ginny, smiling at him on his birthday. He saw Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, lying crumpled on the ground. He saw Ginny pulling out her wand at the Ministry. His eyes popped open and he was blushing furiously, and he didn't understand why his mind was focusing on Ginny.  
  
Mr. Smith noticed the blush and smiled. "Harry, I should have told you it cannot be a person, no matter how special they may be to you. It must be a thing. Now, please choose some thing, an object."  
  
Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. Concentrating, he quickly snapped his eyes open again and looked across to Mr. Smith.  
  
"I have it," Harry said in a determined voice.  
  
"Excellent. Now, I want you to focus on your object, think about its every detail. When I try to penetrate your mind I want you to focus hard on that object. If I manage to push through, I want you to expel me again as before, but I want you to focus on that object and keeping me out. Do you understand?"  
  
Harry nodded and focused. He bent his mind to focusing clearly on the one object he knew better than anything, the Snitch. He focused on the flapping wings, the tiny engraving on the metallic sphere, and the glint of light on its golden surface. He concentrated on the little sphere with intensity. Suddenly a sharp force shoved at him and the Snitch was gone. Harry found himself back at the Dursley's, pouring tea for Aunt Marge. As she glowered at him with disgust, Harry remembered that he was at Grimmauld Place. Twisting his head he pushed back against the force that he could feel pressing down on him.  
  
"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out of my mind."  
  
With a soft whoosh, Harry's concentration returned and he was back in the room with Mr. Smith. Harry was sweating and panting heavily. Mr. Smith was gently rubbing his wand hand, looking over at Harry.  
  
"Well, that was a good first step, I suppose, but you'll have to do better. You need to focus your mind on the Snitch. I gather that's what you are choosing to focus on?"  
  
Harry nodded his head in affirmation.  
  
"Fine. But you have to completely concentrate. Focus all your thoughts on the Snitch. When you feel any pressure, concentrate. Keep me from pushing in. Okay? Let's try again."  
  
Harry nodded and focused again. He focused on the Snitch. He pushed his mind to think solely about the Snitch and watched the wings fluttering wildly as the Snitch hovered in front of him. He felt a push in his mind and felt a vague sensation pushing against the edges of his concentration, but Harry ignored it. He was intent on the Snitch. The fluttering became more intense and Harry focused on the Snitch, bending his mind to the tiny golden sphere. Then he felt a hard shove, and Harry gasped in pain and watched as the Snitch flittered away. It was gone and he couldn't see it any more. Suddenly Harry was back in the Shrieking Shack with Wormtail, Remus, and Sirius. He was saving the wretched little rat's life. The he was in the Gryffindor common room, talking with Sirius through the fireplace. He was at Grimmauld place, for Christmas, and Sirius was dancing around singing wildly off key. Then Harry found himself back in the Ministry, in that awful room where the Veil stood. He saw Sirius falling, falling towards the veil. Harry let out a primal scream of agony.  
  
"This isn't real. GET OUT OF MY MIND!" he bellowed. With a loud whooshing sensation he found himself lying on the ground next to his chair. Wearily he looked up and was shocked when he couldn't see Mr. Smith anywhere nearby. Readjusting his glasses, Harry looked around the room and saw Mr. Smith lying in a corner, breathing heavily.  
  
Harry rushed over to the older man, a look of concern on his face. "Mr. Smith? Are you okay?"  
  
Mr. Smith let out a soft groan, and then started chuckling.  
  
"Fantastic Harry, absolutely fantastic! That was much better. It took me a full minute to penetrate your mind. And you pushed me out quite effectively, all things considered. We'll have to work on that. But this was excellent for a first real try. Dumbledore was quite correct in his assessment. You are a very gifted student."  
  
Harry blushed at the compliment, but looked at Mr. Smith with confusion. "What do you mean? It couldn't have been more than a few seconds."  
  
"No Harry, you held me off for a good bit for a first try. Now I'll admit I was probably not as rough with you as Voldemort would be, but we'll continue working to get you there. Eventually we'll have you move from just focusing on the Snitch to other things and ultimately to nothing. And we also need to improve your stamina so you can block for a longer time. But let's try again, all right?"  
  
Several hours later an exhausted Harry slowly made his way into the kitchen for dinner. Mr. Smith had quietly taken his leave, professing a desire to be alone for the evening in preparation for the next day's training. He had ordered Harry to focus on the Snitch when he wasn't occupied with other things, but not to worry himself over it. And when Harry was about to go to sleep, Mr. Smith wanted Harry to concentrate on his Snitch as hard as he could.  
  
Harry, looking worn out and emotionally exhausted, paused in the doorway to take in the usual chaos of meal time with the Weasley family. Fred and George were busy detailing their day at the shop to Mrs. Weasley, explaining eagerly that they had received a new batch of orders from students at schools throughout the country and they were going to expand their staff again to create all of the products they needed. Ron and Hermione were playfully setting the table, using magic now that they were allowed, and Ginny was busy stirring some of the pots on the stove that Mrs. Weasley had prepared for the meal.  
  
Hermione was the first to notice Harry and she immediately raced toward him, grasping him in a big hug.  
  
"How'd everything go? Was it better this time? How was Mr. Smith? You look exhausted, are you tired?"  
  
"Lay off him Hermione," Ron interrupted. "He's probably knackered and can't answer all those questions at once. Harry, take a seat here and relax, please."  
  
Harry grinned at Ron and Hermione's concern. It was good to have friends like these two, who would do anything for him if he needed it. Nodding his head at Ron, he sank down into a chair and looked up at Hermione.  
  
"It was exhausting, difficult, and emotionally nerve-wracking, but it went well," he smiled. "Mr. Smith has a much better teaching style than that smelly git, and I think I learned a lot today. Plus, it appears Snape wasn't teaching me the right way all along, Mr. Smith was quite put out by that."  
  
"I imagine so," Hermione said with a severe frown. "If it wasn't the right way to teach you, well, that explains why you didn't make as much progress as Professor Dumbledore hoped. But I wonder what Professor Snape was thinking? Why didn't he train you properly?"  
  
"Because he's a slimy, evil git and he's not trustworthy," Ron said savagely. "He's probably trying to keep in the good graces of V-Voldemort, so he didn't train Harry the right way."  
  
Hermione frowned at Ron and shook her head. She wasn't entirely prepared to doubt Professor Snape's loyalty to Professor Dumbledore, or the Order. She couldn't explain why, but Hermione knew that if Dumbledore trusted Snape, there was a solid and legitimate reason. Privately though Hermione was starting to worry. There was so much that was unexplained, and Professor Snape had not helped himself with his refusal to teach Harry properly. Hopefully he had a good explanation, one that would even satisfy Harry, hard as that may be to do at this point.  
  
Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered everyone to the table and began serving generous portions of food, piling extra helpings on Harry's plate with a motherly smile.  
  
"You need to eat up dear, you're nothing but skin and bones and you need your energy. I also fully expect you to get a good night's rest for once. Those sessions with Mr. Smith will be very draining on you and you need your rest. That's an order."  
  
Harry smiled weakly at Mrs. Weasley and started digging through his plate. Once he started eating he was surprised to find that he did indeed have a healthy appetite and managed to finish his plate almost as quickly as Ron. Unlike Ron, however, Harry did not ask for a second plate as he was decidedly full.  
  
Mrs. Weasley asked Fred and George to clear the table while she served dessert and it was while she was passing around the pudding that Mr. Weasley finally came home.  
  
"Arthur, dear, you look knackered. Please, sit down and have a plate. I'll get you a nice cold butterbeer. Ronald, please make room for your father, I'm sure he's had a hard day."  
  
Ron quickly slid down, squeezing in closer to Hermione, causing her to blush. But it also had the effect of making plenty of room for Mr. Weasley to slump into his seat. He looked over at Harry, gave him a friendly nod and winked in Mrs. Weasley's direction.  
  
"It's nice to be taken care of every now and then, isn't it? If I wasn't truthfully so tired I'd be tempted to exaggerate just to give her the pleasure of taking care of me."  
  
Harry smiled at Mr. Weasley's conspiratorial whisper and noticed that Ginny and Hermione were also grinning at him. Mrs. Weasley returned with a plate overflowing with food and an ice cold butterbeer which she popped open with a flick of her wand.  
  
Just then Harry felt himself become overwhelmed with tiredness and let out a massive yawn. Mrs. Weasley patted his head wistfully and pulled him into a big hug.  
  
"Time for bed, young man. Now march upstairs and go to sleep, scoot!" she ordered.  
  
Harry was too tired to argue and nodded his head sleepily. As he walked up the stairs saying a quiet good night to his friends he did as he was ordered and started thinking about the Snitch.  
  
The next several days were lost in a blur for Harry. He spent the vast majority of each day secluded in a room with Mr. Smith. They spent a lot of time going over various meditation techniques and relaxation methods. They also spent a lot of time in mental battle. Every day Mr. Smith would spend hour after hour forcing his way into Harry's mind, breaking down his mental barriers while Harry struggled to block Mr. Smith from entering, or to force him out quickly if Mr. Smith was successful.  
  
To Harry's surprise, but not Mr. Smith's, Harry made a great deal of progress in a short period of time. Harry was determined to master this skill and free his dreams from becoming nightmares every night. Harry also wanted to prevent Voldemort from tricking him again, and this was the only way to do that. He pushed himself incredibly hard, even to the point where Mr. Smith was starting to worry about the strain. But Harry pressed on. He had to overcome this weakness and secure his mind from Voldemort's attacks. The constant repetition of the spells and attacks seemed to be having an exercising effect, and Harry's abilities grew every day. He was eventually able to keep Mr. Smith out of his mind for several minutes while they battled for control, and the force with which Harry pushed Mr. Smith out when he did break through was quite impressive indeed.  
  
However, it was amazingly draining and Harry collapsed into bed every night, struggling with the need to do his mental exercises and focus his mind. As Harry drifted off to sleep, concentrating on the Snitch, he smiled in pleasure at the progress he had made.  
  
The wind was blowing fiercely as Harry searched for the Snitch out on the Quidditch field. He had been focusing on it, came close to getting it, but it slipped through his fingertips and zipped away. Frantically searching around, Harry couldn't seem to locate it. Oddly, he realized that he was alone on the Quidditch field. As he continued to look for the Snitch, he felt an ominous sense of foreboding crawl over him. Off in the distance he thought he saw a dark shape on the ground, but it was too far away for him to make out. The gray skies whirled in preparation for a powerful storm, and a cold and biting rain started falling from the sky. Harry pulled out his wand to cast an impervious charm on his glasses and his wand didn't work. That was when Harry realized something was wrong.  
  
As the skies started whirling even faster, Harry realized that he was in a dream, but he wasn't in control of his dream, again. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and focused on the Snitch. He painstakingly created a Snitch in his mind, focusing on the gold sphere with all his might. As he focused he could hear the wind blowing with greater force and the rain started pelting him even harder. Bending his mind to focus on the Snitch, he started pushing out with his concentration, shoving against the wind and the rain. Suddenly Harry felt a tremendous force pushing against his mind, trying to penetrate beyond his defenses. Harry tensed his shoulders again and pushed with all his might. He felt the hard, cold presence of Voldemort's cruel mind. Voldemort was raging in inchoate fury at Harry's resistance. Pushing again with all his might, Harry let out a powerful roar.  
  
"GET OUT OF MY MIND!"  
  
Harry somehow heard Voldemort roaring in pain and howling with fury. The noise quickly faded in the distance and Harry bolted upright, finding himself awake in his room at Grimmauld Place, sweating profusely. Ron was awake and looking over at him with concern wand in hand. He had obviously been woken up by Harry's shouting.  
  
"You okay, mate?" he asked with concern.  
  
"I, I think so," replied Harry somewhat shakily but with growing enthusiasm. "I think I pushed him out Ron, I think I did it before he was able to do anything or make me see anything!"  
  
Crowing with joy Harry jumped up on his bed and started jumping around. He hopped over to Ron's bed and started jumping around, jostling Ron around the bed as he scrambled to get out of Harry's way. The door flung open with a tired looking Mrs. Weasley glaring at them, her wand in her hand held firmly in preparation for an attack.  
  
"What is going on in here?" Mrs. Weasley sternly demanded.  
  
"Mum, we were just celebrating. Harry managed to force V-Voldemort out of his mind, and his training seems to have helped."  
  
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley replied, her eyes glistening and her stern frown softening into a smile. "Well, then, that's excellent. But let's carry on in the morning, we all need our sleep."  
  
"Sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, still grinning. "We'll go to bed now. Good night."  
  
"Good night boys. Sleep well."  
  
The next morning Harry bounded down the stairs, eager to tell Mr. Smith about what had happened that night. Entering the kitchen where he could smell the wonders of Mrs. Weasley's baking, Harry sat down next to Ginny who was quietly drinking some hot chocolate.  
  
"Morning Harry," Ginny said groggily. "Mum tells me that you had an eventful night. Everything okay?"  
  
"Yes!" said Harry proudly. "I did it Ginny! I forced him out before he could probe my mind. I knew he was there and I forced him out."  
  
Ginny squealed in delight and caught Harry up in a big hug. Harry was surprised, but hugged her back. He was a little surprised by the fierceness of her hug and she held on to him a little longer than he would have expected, but he found that it was nice to get hugged by Ginny. When she pulled away her eyes were glistening, but she was smiling a broad smile.  
  
"Oh Harry, I'm glad this is starting to work."  
  
Harry smiled back at her and picked up his cup of hot chocolate that Mrs. Weasley had put down for him. Taking a sip from the mug, he grinned as Mrs. Weasley started serving a heaping platter of food for him.  
  
Hermione joined them while Harry quietly ate his food and she too reacted happily to Harry's news.  
  
"Harry, that's excellent! Maybe now you will be able to spend a little less time doing Occlumency."  
  
"Hermione, I'm shocked. You want me to not study? Are you okay?" Harry teased.  
  
"No," she whispered conspiratorially, obviously trying to keep Mrs. Weasley from overhearing. "But I have another project that you might want to work on if you have the time."  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked, wondering why they were whispering.  
  
"Last night I finally found the book I've been looking for the past few days while you've been holed up with Mr. Smith."  
  
"Which book?"  
  
"Well, Professor Lupin let it slip that Sirius kept a journal while her learned how to become an Animagus. Your dad seems to have written in it too, when Sirius was goofing off too much."  
  
"I need to see it," Harry said determinedly. "Where is it?"  
  
"Upstairs, in mine and Ginny's room. But Harry, I'm sorry to say that there is nothing really personal there, it's mostly stuff about what they learned to transform."  
  
"Okay, but still, it was my Dad's, I want to see it. Why were you looking for it anyway?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"Well, you see," Hermione replied somewhat evasively. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea for us to learn how to become an Animagus. Don't you think?"  
  
"Yes. Yes I do," Harry said with fierce determination. 


	17. Past and Present Peril

A/N: Sorry about Chapter 15 folks, didn't realize the section breaks were deleted. That's been fixed, I hope.

Chapter 17 – Past and Present Peril

Harry, Ron, and Ginny quietly followed Hermione out of the kitchen after hastily excusing themselves from Mrs. Weasley's watchful eyes. Hermione had earnestly explained that they were going to continue working in the library. The excuse was almost ruined when Mrs. Weasley questioned why Ron was so eager to help such a laborious task, but Hermione's quick thinking saved the day when she explained that she had offered to buy him a new Chudley Cannons poster as a reward.

So the foursome quickly escaped the kitchen and made their way to the library. Harry hadn't been there for a few days due to his intense training with Mr. Smith and was stunned by the progress that Hermione and the Weasley's had made.

"I can't believe it," he said in wonderment. "It looks so different in here, how'd you do it so quickly?"

"It was pretty easy," Hermione replied. "I knew the system I wanted to use, so I just pulled all the books off the shelf and started putting them away. It was just a matter of being methodical."

"And being able to use magic now certainly helped," Ron added with a grin. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at Ron. "I convinced her that using some spells would hasten the process, you know, some simple summoning and banishing spells. And then she goes and uses that wicked brain of hers and comes up with some even better spells."

Hermione smiled again and Harry noticed that her cheeks were a bright, rosy red. He was about to comment when Ginny beat him to it.

"Honestly, the two of you should get a room," she muttered, blushing as she realized what she was saying. "Let me make this quick, Harry. Hermione was worried about the impact of the basic _Accio_ so she looked up a couple of different moving and transportation spells and discovered a softer spell, with less speed and less push. Then she found a spell that alphabetized and sorted the books based on the pattern she wanted, so long as she held the concept firmly in her mind."

"Wow, that's impressive," Harry agreed.

"But wait, my Miney wasn't done yet," Ron said proudly. "Then she found a spell that preserves the place for each book. So when you are done with one you just put it down on this table and it will then float back to where it belongs. That way the books won't get out of order ever again, and she'll be able to relax knowing everything is always going to be in its place."

"That's great," said Harry slowly. "I'm impressed, really. But I thought that we were going to read my Dad's journal? I really want to see that, and I want to learn how to become an Animagus."

"Me too," agreed Ginny. "So why don't you two shut down the mutual admiration society and let's get to work?"

Ron and Hermione blushingly agreed to get to the task at hand. Hermione pulled out the journal that she had picked up from her room on the way to the library. Silently handing it over to Harry, she motioned to Ron and Ginny to sit down, giving Harry a few minutes alone to leaf through the book.

It was a deceptively large book, there seemed to be more pages than the spine could hold. Assuming it was charmed to hold a larger content, Harry slowly flipped through the pages, trying to decipher which handwriting was his father's, and which belonged to Sirius. At first Harry thought it was odd that neither Wormtail nor Lupin had contributed to the book until he recalled that Pettigrew was a weak student at best, and his father and Sirius had kept their transformation studies secret from Lupin.

Sighing when he realized that there were no personal notes that would have given him more insight into his father's character, or enhance his memories of Sirius, Harry placed the book down on the table and sat down with his friends.

"So where do we start?" he asked Hermione, assuming, correctly, that she would have planned a strategy to pursue.

"Well, it's all internal magic, kind of like Occlumency. We will have to use a lot of the principles of transfiguration and apply those changes internally. It will be a lot of work, and a lot of practice, but this journal, and a few other books I've picked up will help us."

"Is it dangerous?" Ginny asked quietly. Harry turned to look at the pretty red headed witch. She didn't seem worried- she just wanted to get all the facts.

"Well, I guess there might be some dangers," Hermione admitted. "But if we take it very slowly, and practice a lot, we should be able to do it. I do think that we should tell some adult, so that we can get their help if needed."

"Remus will help us," Harry said confidently. "He'll know how important it is for us to have this skill, and he'll know we can do it. If Wormtail could do it any of us can. However, I draw the line at turning into a rat."

Hermione smiled at Harry and nodded her head in agreement. "That's one thing I'm still a little perplexed about. The journal and books seem to indicate that there is an inherent choice that our minds make for us. It isn't a conscious choice really, it's like it is part of our magic."

"Kind of like picking a wand?" asked Ron.

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed in delight. "That's a perfect analogy. There is just a certain fit for an animal to each of us and as we go through the process that will become more and more clear."

"So, where do we start?" Harry asked, eager to move the process forward.

XXX

After spending most of the day reading through the journal and various books that Hermione had included, Harry's mind was numb. They had paused for a brief lunch when Mrs. Weasley called them down for sandwiches, but it was finally getting close to time for dinner. A fact that was reinforced by the sounds coming from Ron's growling stomach.

This was ten times worse than a history lecture from Professor Binns Harry thought. Maybe a thousand. The level of detail in the journal was particularly incredible. He would never have suspected that Sirius, or what little he thought he knew of his father, would have been so painstakingly detailed. He comforted himself with the fact that the journal represented several years of work, and they were ultimately successful and both were able to transform at will.

The books were also detailed, if somewhat more vague than the journal. Most of it was theory, detailing the various aspects of the required transfiguration skills. Harry and the others were surprised to see numerous warnings about transfigurations gone bad and the difficulty in restoring a botched job. There were also vague warnings about the transfiguration becoming too complete, but these were not very clear and not every text had that warning.

"It doesn't make any sense," moaned Ron. "Why is learning how to be an Animagus so difficult? If McGonnagal can fix it when I don't completely turn a dog into a foot stool, why can't they fix a mistake here?"

"They can, Ron," sighed Hermione. "Sometimes. But this is more complicated. It's an internal transfiguration and it's a more complete change. We'll be changing the nature of our bodies. A mistake here is like a splinching. They can fix it, sometimes, but the fundamental nature of the spell is difficult to remedy completely.

"There's lots that we need to learn," she added in a serious voice. "And we'll need to do this carefully and slowly. The risks are pretty significant."

"But this is an advantage we need," Harry said quietly. "My Dad and Sirius did it so they could help Remus, but it also helped Sirius deal with the Dementors. If we are successful, maybe that will be an added edge for us."

"Plus, it's going to be wicked to sneak around the castle," added Ron, grinning.

"That too," Harry agreed with a smile.

Hermione and Ginny shook their heads and sighed in the same tone. "Boys," they muttered as the foursome headed down the stairs to the kitchen where another sumptuous meal was waiting for them.

XXX

Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them in the kitchen, the table set for dinner, but for a much smaller crowd.

"Mum, where is everyone," Ginny asked. "Why aren't more places set?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed and placed the last platter of food down on the table.

"Your father is still at the Ministry," she sighed. "He's still cleaning up after Fudge, which will take years I fear. The twins are at their shop preparing for back to school shoppers. Tonks is with Remus, of course. Alastor and Kingsley are on an assignment, and Bill is still at work. It's just us tonight. Again."

Sensing the resignation in Mrs. Weasley's voice, Harry and Hermione quietly started serving up the dishes of food while Ron and Ginny offered words of comfort to their mother. After a few moments the three Weasley's joined Harry and Hermione at the table, eyes glistening, but smiling. Dinner was a quiet affair, and short as everyone gathered was famished. As they stood to clear the table, Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley was still somewhat melancholy.

"Mrs. Weasley, are you okay," he asked, concern in his voice.

"Well, I suppose I'm just being silly," Mrs. Weasley said with a forced laugh and shake of her head. "But I do think we all need to get out of this house for a change. Especially me. Harry, after your lesson with Mr. Smith tomorrow I think we need to go to Diagon Alley. I've arranged things with Alastor and Kingsley to provide security, and Arthur has already assigned more Aurors there permanently, so we should be reasonably safe."

The three teenagers smiled eagerly at the thought of heading to Diagon Alley. Harry hadn't been in some time and he really wanted to see Fred and George's shop. Plus there were always some supplies he needed for the upcoming year and of course the idea of a day of relative freedom was very inspiring.

"But Mrs. Weasley, we don't know our course schedule yet, so we won't know which books we'll need for the year," Hermione protested.

"Well, I know dear, but once the course schedule comes out, we're worried that they'd expect us to come then and try to lay out an ambush for Harry. Once the schedules arrive, I can just pop over and pick up the books and other supplies for you. But you should be able to buy whatever else you need outside of that without any difficulty."

Hermione was obviously disgruntled at the prospect of not being able to immediately review her books for the upcoming year. Ron attempted to mollify her by suggesting that they could spend some time in the bookshop, so long as she accompanied him to Quidditch Quality Supplies. An agreement reached, Hermione quickly started jotting notes of things she wanted to purchase while Ron and Ginny finished clearing the table and shot a few quick cleaning charms at the sink.

As the dishes washed themselves, Harry set up a chessboard and waited for Ron to sit down and demolish him, again. Mrs. Weasley was intent on teaching Ginny how to knit, and Ginny was good-naturedly putting up with the instruction, so the two of them wandered off to a sitting room to take up their knitting. As Hermione muttered quietly to herself going through her list, Ron sat down across from Harry and they started playing their game.

After three rounds of being completely dominated by Ron, Harry shook his head in defeat.

"I give up," Harry smiled. "You're getting better or I'm getting worse."

Ron grinned and nodded his head. "I like to think I'm getting better, you can't get much worse."

Harry gave Ron a flinty look. "Very funny. I think I'm about knackered, I'm heading upstairs. Your Mum said that Mr. Smith was going to come early so we can have a full day at Diagon Alley."

Ron cast a quick look at Hermione, his ears flushing pink.

"Erm, I think I may stay up for a bit, Harry. See you up there."

"Okay," Harry replied with a faint smile. As he walked out of the room he turned around with a wide grin. "Have a good snog," he said, chuckling when Hermione started blushing as well.

XXX

"Excellent Harry, excellent," Mr. Smith said as he picked himself up off the floor, again. "You are making excellent progress."

Harry beamed at the praise, but knew he had more work ahead of him. "Mr. Smith, will I be able to keep him from penetrating my mind altogether? We can't risk his learning the entire prophecy, which I know he wants."

"Harry, no shield will ever be strong enough to prevent that entirely. Everything has a weakness that can be overcome with enough time and effort. But we're building up your mental strength and stamina to delay him as long as possible. The trick is to have multiple layers of defense so that once a barrier is breached there's another obstacle up to give you time to respond. And when you return to school Albus will start teaching you how to deflect Voldemort's mind so that you can create a vision that you want him to see. Like he did to you last year."

"Good," Harry replied. "It will be good to stop that monster from invading my mind."

"Well, let's give it one more go before you head to Diagon Alley with the others," Mr. Smith said with a smile. "You've certainly earned a break today."

The two wizards stood a few feet apart, staring into each others eyes. With a quick flick of his wand, Mr. Smith shouted "Legilimens" and Harry felt Mr. Smith's mind pressing against his.

Harry's concentration was centered on the Snitch, his point of focus that allowed him to hold up his shield against the mental attack. As Harry concentrated and poured his mental energy into the shield, he noticed something different than usual. Off in the distance he saw a shining light that seemed to beckon to him. Intrigued, Harry pushed towards that light, and found himself rushing towards it.

Reaching the light, his mind still focusing on the Snitch, Harry pressed into the light. Like passing through the barrier at King's Cross, Harry found himself in an entirely different environment.

It was dusk on dreary day and he saw a horde of 20 wizards in deep red robes standing in a circle. The robes were so red that they were almost black. In the center of the circle a woman sprawled on the ground. She had been through several rounds of torture, Harry could tell. Her face was beaten so severely she was unrecognizable, her clothing was torn, and blood oozed out of various places all along her body. From the distance he couldn't tell if she was even breathing. The men were laughing cruelly, taunting her as they shot several quick curses and hexes at her. The limp body shook from each spell, but the woman was either in too much pain to react or she was already dead.

A powerful flash of lightening shattered the air, illuminating the landscape, and then Harry saw Professor Dumbledore standing about 50 yards away from the circle of wizards, hiding from their view. It was a much younger Dumbledore. He was at least 50 years younger than Harry was used to seeing him.

Dumbledore raised his wand and shot several spells towards the circle, taking down almost half the wizards in a quick blow. Several of the remaining wizards scrambled to face this new threat. Setting his shoulders, Dumbledore shot another powerful spell at the woman in the center, and a bright blue bubble formed around her. Turning his attention back to the wizards that were coming toward him, Dumbledore continued to shoot spells, dodging and diving around while avoiding attacks from his opponents.

As Dumbledore raised his wand to shoot at three wizards who decided to retreat, Harry saw a swift blurred form shooting towards Dumbledore. The impact would have been devastating to a normal wizard, but that description apparently never applied to Dumbledore. A resounding gong filled the air and the wizard that had attacked Dumbledore bounced off Harry's headmaster.

With a determined resolve Dumbledore shot several spells faster than Harry could see at the few wizards who remained standing. Caught up in his powerful spells, they all slumped to the ground, unconscious. With fire flashing in his eyes, Dumbledore turned towards the wizard who had tried to physically assault him.

"Jehan, it is over. Tell me where he is," Dumbledore said.

"Never you pathetic fool," Jehan Vorster spat. Blood was oozing out of his mouth and when he spat Harry could see a few teeth come out.

"Never is a long time, Jehan. Are you sure you can see to the end of it?"

"My Lord will be victorious over you foolish Muggle-lovers. They have no right to rule the world--it is our place to have dominion, not theirs."

Dumbledore looked at the evil wizard with sadness in his eyes. With a sigh Dumbledore reached down and took Vorster's wand and quickly snapped it in two.

"Jehan Vorster, you are accused of crimes against Muggles, crimes against the wizarding world, and not the least of them is mass murder. You are under arrest and will be tried by the Wizengamut. The ultimate Muggle penalty will most likely be applied and you will hang by your neck until you die. But you will be placed in Azkaban prison pending your trial. This Portkey will transport you to your cell."

As Dumbledore placed a Portkey in Vorster's hands, Jehan spat again at Dumbledore, trying to befoul his captor. Of course since the pathetic evil wizard was bound he failed miserably and ended up spitting on himself, blood dribbling down his chin.

Without a sound Jehan disappeared, whisked away to his prison. Dumbledore quickly placed Portkeys on the other wizards he had subdued and they all quickly disappeared, leaving him standing alone next to the shimmering globe and the woman's figure underneath it.

With a muttered spell and flick of his wand the blue shield disappeared and Dumbledore collapsed to his knees as he reached out to the woman. Gently checking on the woman great tears welled up in his eyes and a choked sob escaped from his lips as he clutched her body to his chest. Only then did he turn, seeming to look straight at Harry, shock in his eyes.

"Zeb?" he gasped. "Zebediah, are you all right? Can you hear me?" Dumbledore gently laid the body of the woman he was holding back on the ground and ran in Harry's direction. Stepping away from Dumbledore's path, Harry looked down and saw Mr. Smith, a 50-year-younger Mr. Smith, sitting in a prone position against a boulder. He too had been beaten savagely. One eye was almost swelled shut, blood trickled out of his mouth and from both ears, and his left arm hung limply at his side.

Recognition flickered across his eyes and he opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out at first, but Mr. Smith strained to make his voice heard. "Albus, she's dead, they- - the bastards killed her. We hoped you would come, but you were too late. She's, she's gone..."

With that his voice trailed off and he lost consciousness and Harry was suddenly encased in darkness. A soft sound floated over him and he recognized Mr. Smith's voice.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I need you to leave my mind now. I could expel you, but I'd prefer not to just now."

Harry nodded his head and concentrated. With a whooshing sensation he found himself back in his own mind looking across at Mr. Smith who was standing with great tears in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Harry spluttered. "I just saw a light and moved toward it. I didn't mean to intrude on your memories."

Mr. Smith wearily nodded his head and wiped his eyes with his robe. With a heavy sigh he summoned a chair to his side and wearily sat down.

"I know Harry, it wasn't your fault. I normally shield myself better than that, but it proves that you are learning and progressing. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"No, sir, please don't apologize," Harry protested. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have intruded."

Mr. Smith shook his head at Harry's words. "Nonsense. We're training you to overcome that foul bastard and it's good that you are learning how to do this. What you saw was an intensely personal memory, one that I live with every day of my life. It is no surprise that you were able to access it."

"You think about that every day?" Harry asked. "How do you live with that? It's been fifty years."

"She was my life," Mr. Smith said simply. "She was the center of my world and everything stopped that day. While I was recovering at St. Mungo's Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald and ended the war. When I was finally released I quit the world that had brought me so much pain."

Mr. Smith stood and started pacing around the room.

"I left my daughter and her husband with most of my money, taking just a little to get me by. I bought a little place and retired. It was a quiet life, a solitary life. I knew I'd never find a love like that again, and nothing was worthwhile without her there to share it with me. Then Voldemort started accumulating power. At first I wasn't aware of it. Living as a Muggle had its rewards, but eventually I saw enough of a pattern to be disturbed. I came close to offering my help to Albus, even decided to meet with him. I told him I wanted to talk on November first about 16 years ago.

"Of course I was the one who was late this time. You had destroyed Voldemort, or seemed to, at the cost of your parents' lives. The danger seemed to have passed, for the moment. But I knew Albus was concerned when he didn't place you with Remus or the Weasley's, or take you to Hogwarts with him. But I decided it wasn't my concern, and went back to my seclusion in the Muggle world.

"But something nagged at me for years, and I was worried. Why did Albus hide you? After a while I decided to take the Daily Prophet again. It was about the time of your third year at Hogwarts. When Sirius escaped, I thought Dumbledore was hiding you from him. It made sense, for all Albus knew, Sirius had turned against your parents and was out for your blood. But something didn't ring true about that story with me. You see, I know something about friendship and love, and the charges against Sirius didn't ring true somehow.

"With Cedric's death and then your incidents with the Ministry and Sirius' death, I knew Albus had made an error. You weren't as safe as he thought, and I knew you would be in pain. And I knew Albus would try and protect you too much by shielding you. He tries to protect everyone he loves. He carries the burdens of the world and thinks that no one else should have to share them.

"The two of you are much alike, young Harry. You would do well to remember that. Anyway, I learned where you lived and moved there to try to offer my aid. But when I met you the last thing you needed was to be approached by another old wizard trying to help. So a few memory charms later on some unsuspecting Muggles and I took over the operation of the park and we became friends.

With a sad smile Mr. Smith sat back down in his chair. "But you didn't ask about that, did you? Forgive the ramblings of an old man.

"I live with it every day, just like you live with your pain every day Harry. Tell me, how often do you see Cedric's face? Or your godfather's? Such pain never leaves you, but you cannot let it overwhelm you or define you. My wife and I had found the love of a lifetime and we were as one person. I will remember her every day for the rest of my life. Hopefully your pain over those two, and your parents, will lessen, but as you said at the Ministry, we must never forget the sacrifices that have been made."

Harry nodded numbly, overwhelmed by Mr. Smith's words. The kindly old wizard had lived for 50 years with an unbearable grief, and somehow managed to survive. If he could do it, Harry had no choice but to make the same effort. Despite the agony of losing his parents, losing Sirius, feeling the burden of Cedric's death, Harry had to carry on. And carry on he would.

"Harry, I think we are done for the day. You have your trip to Diagon Alley, and I would prefer to be alone with my memories. I'll see you in a few days."

"Okay, Mr. Smith. And thank you, for everything."

Mr. Smith stood and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "You are most welcome. Just remember that you will never be alone, and that your friends and family care for you very deeply. While we are all counting on you, you may count on us as well."

Harry nodded his head as he left, heading downstairs to meet up with the Weasley's and Hermione.

XXX

As Harry stumbled out of the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron, coughing through the smoke, he tripped over a brick and tumbled into Ginny. Fortunately she seemed to be waiting for that and had braced herself and didn't fall.

"Seriously Harry, when are you going to get the hang of traveling by Floo?" she asked, with a grin. "I don't know any wizard that has as many problems with that as you do."

"Ha ha." Harry replied without laughter. "I really hate traveling by Floo. I don't think I'll ever get the hang of it. I'd prefer flying."

"Or maybe Apparating?" asked Ron. "I can't wait until we can learn how to do that. Maybe I could ask Dad to let us do that early too?"

"You leave your father out of this, Ronald Weasley," demanded Mrs. Weasley. "That poor man has enough to worry about running the Ministry, he doesn't need you adding to his list of worries, or mine. You'll learn next year when it's permitted, just like everyone else your age."

"Yes, Mum," Ron said embarrassedly. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay dear," she replied, calming down. "We'll go to Gringott's first and then stop at Fred and George's."

The five of them waved to Tom on their way out. Harry could only assume his invisible protectors were close behind, and he thought he heard Moody's limping steps in the background.

As they entered Diagon Alley, Harry was stunned by the differences from his last visit. The massive crowds were gone, and the shops looked practically deserted. Aurors were patrolling with wands drawn and the shoppers that did brave the public locale went about their business quite hastily.

"How long has it been like this," Hermione asked quietly.

"Since the end of June," Mrs. Weasley replied. "People are afraid to be in public places for long, especially places where witches and wizards congregate. I think they are looking for safety in numbers, so most people come on the weekends."

"Don't they realize that's when Voldemort is most likely to attack?" asked Harry incredulously. "I mean, he doesn't want to kill a small group of people, he wants to strike terror and fear into the hearts of everyone. He's probably waiting for a weekend to attack."

"I know dear, but not everyone is as quick as you are. But that's neither here nor there. We're here to have some fun and get some needed supplies. Now, on to the bank."

Gringott's was as imposing as Harry remembered. The building was immense and a little foreboding as they entered. Security had obviously been increased here as well. Mrs. Weasley approached a goblin and explained their need to withdraw funds. The goblin snapped his fingers and a strange goblin approached the group.

"Take them to their vaults," the first goblin said graciously, with a bizarre smile at Harry and Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and the others followed the second goblin towards the carts and piled in. As the goblin prepared to move Harry wondered what happened to Griphook.

"Excuse me, do you know Griphook?" he asked.

"Yes sir, I do, he is my sister's husband's brother-in-law," the goblin answered. "Why do you ask?"

"He was the first goblin I ever met and being back here at Gringott's makes me wonder how he is doing."

"He is doing well, sir. But I'll admit that I am surprised that you remember him, most of your kind does not bother to make the distinction between us."

"Well, I remember him quite well. Next time you see him, please tell him I said hello."

"Harry dear," interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "We do need to get going if you don't mind."

"Oh, sorry. We're ready to go to their vault. Thanks."

With a polite nod the goblin let loose the cart and they started whisking through the tunnels. Up and down the maze of vaults they flew, speeding along on a dizzying path that no one could follow. Harry laughed with delight at the sensation of the wind flowing through his hair and the stomach-wrenching turns. Ron and Ginny were laughing as well, but Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were surprisingly quiet. Harry wasn't sure, due to the dim light, but he thought they both looked a little green.

They reached the Weasley vault first and Mrs. Weasley quickly scooped out several handfuls of Galleons.

"Whoa Mum, where'd all that gold come from?" Ron asked in awe as the cart started rolling again, heading towards Harry's vault.

"Most of it is from Sirius, his will," Mrs. Weasley replied quietly. "And of course your father is earning quite a bit more as Minister of Magic. But don't let it go to your head, either of you. We are not going to waste this money frivolously. We have many responsibilities and I won't have any of my children putting on airs now that we have some extra money."

"Mother, please," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, you and Dad did a pretty good job raising us. We're not all greedy ferrets like the Malfoys. It's just that we've never seen that much gold before."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes grew moist as she shook her head. "I'm sorry Ron, Ginny. I know better, and expect better of both of you. I don't know what has gotten into me lately."

"Well could it be the stress of the war," Ginny asked gently. "Or the fact that your husband is the Minister of Magic, or the that half of your children are in the Order and face death almost every day, or that Ron and I are part of Harry's life and so are major targets for Death Eaters, or the that you haven't been able to stay at the Burrow for almost two years, or a thousand other stresses that would bring any other woman to her knees. I think possibly we can forgive your occasional irrational outburst, Mum."

Ginny was probably going to say more to her mother but was cut off as she was swept into a massive hug from her mother.

"My little baby went and grew up on me, and I didn't notice until now."

"Enough Mum, we have a lot to do today. Don't get all mushy. C'mon, Harry needs some gold and then we have to get out of here."

Harry quietly motioned to the goblin and the cart started rolling faster. After several hair-raising turns, they arrived at Harry's vault. When it opened up even Harry was taken aback by the vaults contents.

"Whoa Harry, that's a lot of gold," Ron breathed. "Have you always had that much?"

"No," the goblin offered. "Mr. Potter has possession recently gained possession of the Black vaults as well as the Potter vaults. This is just his personal vault. We are in the process of adding security to one of his other vaults, so we had to move all of the contents from that vault here. This is just a portion of Mr. Potter's estate."

Harry's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He quickly gathered up two bagfuls of gold and turned back to the cart, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Harry nodded at the goblin and the cart whisked back around, taking the treacherous route back to the bank lobby.

As they left Gringott's Harry noticed that more people had arrived at Diagon Alley. It certainly wasn't crowded by previous standards, but it seemed somewhat less desolate, which cheered him up. Mrs. Weasley marched them all down the street to Fred and George's shop and quickly ushered them inside.

Harry's senses were being overwhelmed. There were a thousand things he wanted to look at, a million smells assaulting his nose, and too many noises for him to determine their sources. As the door shut behind him Fred and George tumbled out of their back room to greet their customers.

"Look Fred," smiled George. "It's customers."

"Nah, it's just family," Fred replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "It's not like they'll be allowed to buy anything here today. We're an unreliable duo, you know."

"Oh shut it you two," Mrs. Weasley replied with a roll of her eyes. "I've already told you how proud I am of you that your business is a success, don't try and lay a guilt trip on me."

The twins smiled cheekily at her and gave her a big hug of welcome. Harry and Ron were wandering through the store looking at the different products, trying to figure out which they wanted to buy for the beginning of the school year. After scooping up an armful of Weasley Whiz-Bangs and Canary Creams, Harry's eyes widened as he remembered the Quidditch game they tried out on his birthday.

"Fred, George, have you finished the Quidditch game yet? Is it for sale?" Harry asked eagerly.

Ron's head quickly snapped up and a determined look crossed his face. "That's right!" he exclaimed. "That will give us an enormous edge over Slytherin this year if we can practice against the best teams. C'mon, you have to let us have one."

"Well, I don't know," George said with a straight face.

"It isn't completed or tested and you know what Professor McGonnagal would say about that, don't you?" added Fred.

"She'd tell you to give Gryffindor whatever was necessary to help us continue our streak, Fred Weasley," Ginny said, joining in to the conversation with a fierce stare. "And she'd probably make you feel compelled to give it to us for free as a gift to the House."

"Well, erm, yeah," said George hastily, scared of his sister's glare. "We, um, were actually going to do that, weren't we Fred."

"No way," said Fred, oblivious to his brother's discomfort or his sister's stare. "We'll charge ickle Ronniekins just like anyone else. Why wouldn't we? Oww!"

Fred was rubbing his ribs after George had elbowed him.

"Don't you remember that we decided to make this a charitable donation to our old House? The Weasley Memorial Quidditch, erm, Practicer?" asked George with a glare and a nod in Ginny's direction.

"Oh, erm, yeah I guess, so," Fred responded. "When did we decide that?" he asked his brother under his breath.

"When Ginny showed up," George replied in a whisper. "I have no problem admitting that I'm afraid of her."

Relief flashed over Fred's face. "Good, I am too," he whispered back. "Now, how do we get ourselves out of this?"

"Ginny dear, of course we're going to do that," George said loudly, with an extravagant wave of his hands. "We were just teasing our little brother. It's already packaged and ready to go. Just give me a moment to get it from the back."

"No need, brother dear," Ginny said loftily, obviously seeing through his attempt at deception. "We don't have need of it until we get to school. Just ship it to us on the first morning we're there. That way it will actually be wrapped."

Fred and George smiled gratefully at each other that they were not going to get abused by their terror of a sister while Ginny winked at Harry and Ron. The two smiled back at her and continued putting items from the twins' shelves in their shopping cart. When it was filled with everything they both wanted, they brought it to the twins.

"How much do we owe?" Harry asked.

"We can't take your money, Harry," the twins protested in unison. "You're our partner after all."

"Nonsense," Harry replied. "If I take all of this without paying for it then I'm taking profit away from the store. Plus I've got more than enough gold with me, let me pay for it all. Just add up Ginny and Hermione's stuff too, and we'll call it even for your, erm, gift that Ginny conned you out of."

Nodding their heads in agreement, they scooped up all of Harry and Ron's items and put them in bags. A quick shrinking charm later and Harry placed the packages in one easy to carry bag. With a smile and a wave the foursome left. Mrs. Weasley was going to run a few of her own errands, and she said there was ample security following Harry so she felt comfortable giving the four of them some freedom.

As they walked around Diagon Alley, casually window shopping, occasionally dropping in to a store to look at something that caught their eyes, Harry found that he was enjoying himself quite immensely. It was a beautiful summer day, he was having an enjoyable afternoon with his three closest friends, and the troubles of the world seemed very far away for the moment.

"What do we have here," a familiar voice snarled. "Scar head, the mudblood, and two weasels. Out doing some charity work? Buying them some nice things so they'll still be your friend?"

Harry's back stiffened and his hand clenched around his wand. Turning around he saw Draco standing close to him, the normal arrogant sneer plastered on his face.

"Sod off Malfoy," Harry replied through clenched teeth. "Leave me alone before I do something that you'll regret."

"Like what, Potter? I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," Hermione said calmly. "You should be very afraid Malfoy. Harry's already responsible for putting your father in prison, I don't think he'd hesitate to throw you in there as well."

"Yeah," added Ron. "And if I recall your father is scheduled to have his magic ripped out of him pretty soon, isn't he? When was that scheduled today or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow Ron," Ginny said helpfully. "We have front row seats, remember? Our father, the one who is NOT a criminal, got us reserved seats. It's nice to have a father who is not in jail, you know."

"You'll pay for that you little-"Draco started to curse at the Weasley's but stopped midstream as Harry jabbed his wand right in the middle of Malfoy's eyes.

"Finish that sentence Malfoy and I'll blast you to Bermuda. Now get out of here before we all feel the need to bathe. You disgust me."

"You'll all pay, Potter. I'll make sure that you all pay."

With a flourish Draco swirled around and stomped away from the quartet. Harry watched to make sure that he kept walking away from them and relaxed when Malfoy turned the corner.

"Let's just forget about the ferret," he said with a forced smile. "I think we all need some ice cream. My treat!"

Ron's eyes bulged at that and he eagerly grabbed Hermione's hand, bodily dragging her to Fortescue's. Harry laughed at first then found himself being yanked on as Ginny pulled on his hand to follow.

"Ok, ok, I'm coming," he laughed at the eagerness of the Weasley siblings. He was surprised, however, when Ginny didn't drop his hand as she kept dragging him towards the ice cream shop.


	18. Mommy's Dearests

Chapter 18 – Mommy's Dearests

Somehow Ron had managed to get a significant lead on Harry and Ginny. Ginny was still dragging Harry by his hand, and Harry's stomach was starting to squirm for some unidentifiable reason, while his hands suddenly felt clammy. Passing it off to hunger, Harry shrugged and let the tiny witch drag him down the street. Once they got to the store Harry went to open the door and Ginny dropped his hand with a slight squeeze.

"Thank you Harry," she said with a smile as she walked through the door. Harry's stomach gave another lurch and he figured he was a lot hungrier than he thought. By the time they reached their table, Ron was already ordering for the four of them.

"And these two will have just a regular sundae each, with extra chocolate topping," he said with a smile and then pointed at Harry. "And he's paying, so give the bill to him."

"Nice," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Forgive my brother Harry, he's the soul of tact and appreciation."

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I learned during our first year that I should never get between Ron and food."

"Unless you wanted to lose a finger, or hand, or arm," Hermione added with a giggle. "Do you remember that time when Seamus reached for the salt in front by Ron's plate? It took Madam Pomfrey twenty minutes to get the fork out, and that was an accident."

The three of them howled with laughter at Ron's expense as he went bright red. He started spluttering, trying to defend himself fruitlessly. He was saved when their ice cream arrived and he hungrily dug in. The laughter fading, the other three quickly followed Ron's lead and started demolishing their treats.

Harry was astonished that he finished first, until he realized that Ron's sundae was at least twice as big as everyone else's which explained why Ron was still eating. Waiting for first Hermione, then Ginny to finish, the three of them watched in something close to awe as Ron methodically ate through the mountain of ice cream, fudge toppings, and whipped cream, saving one cherry till the very end. As he ate the last bite, a little chocolate dribbled down his chin and Hermione leaned over to wipe it off with her napkin.

Just as she wiped off the last of the chocolate off Ron's face, all heads turned as Ginny squealed with delight, shouting out to Neville Longbottom who had just walked in with his grandmother.

"Neville," Ginny cried out. "Good to see you! What are you doing here today?"

Neville rushed over with a big smile and greeted the foursome.

"Gran and I are here to buy a new wand for me, since mine got snapped, erm, you know," Neville said, responding to Ginny's question. "We stopped here for some ice cream first, Gran's got something of a sweet tooth."

Smiling, Mrs. Longbottom waddled over with her massive hat and nodded at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger. A pleasure to see you. I dare say I appreciate all you've done to bring change to the Ministry, Mr. Potter. I certainly had no regard for that imbecile Fudge, and I'm pleased to see your father as Minister Mr. Weasley. He'll do a bang up job. Now, where shall we sit?"

Harry quickly invited them to join them at their table and was pleased with the relieved look that Neville gave him. After ordering, Harry and Hermione started talking with Neville's grandmother about the changes at the Ministry while Ron and Ginny talked quietly with Neville about his summer.

The ice cream arrived quickly, and disappeared almost as fast. If Mrs. Longbottom and Ron were in an eating contest, no one at the table was sure who would win. As Mrs. Longbottom sighed contentedly she gave an appraising look at Harry as he tried to pay the bill surreptitiously.

"There's no need for that young man," she said firmly. "We'll treat today."

"Mrs. Longbottom, thank you," Harry responded, just as firmly. "But I insist. I didn't manage to send Neville anything for his birthday, the least I can do is treat the two of you to some ice cream."

Neville looked at Harry with an awed silence before mumbling out his thanks while Mrs. Longbottom looked again at Harry with that speculative look.

"As a matter of fact," Harry continued, "I think I owe my friend here something a bit more than just some ice cream. He saved my life in June and I never appropriately thanked him. I know just what to get him."

Standing and motioning for everyone to follow, Harry led his curious friends to Mr. Ollivander's shop. Opening the door for everyone to enter before him, Harry closed the door behind him and calmly rang the bell. After waiting for a moment or two, a familiar figure stepped out of the back and greeted his customers.

"Mr. Ollivander," Harry replied. "Neville here is looking for a top-notch wand, and as it was his birthday recently, and since he broke his old one on my account, I'm going to insist that I pay for it."

Harry's voice was immediately drowned out by loud protests from both Neville and his grandmother, but Harry refused to relent.

"Neville, be reasonable," Harry argued. "You broke your Dad's wand to save my life. You didn't have to go to the Ministry with me and you didn't have to stick with me the whole way through. You risked your life, you broke your nose. Let me do this for you, as a friend."

Neville was dumbfounded by Harry's display of generosity and friendship and just nodded silently, overwhelmed by emotion. Mrs. Longbottom was about to say something, but after looking at the two young men in front of her, and sensing the obvious emotional weight of Harry's words, she let out a loud sigh and shrugged her shoulders at Mr. Ollivander.

"You heard the boy Ollivander, get my grandson a wand."

Mr. Ollivander smiled and started pulling out boxes of wands for Neville to try out. He tried out holly, oak, redwood, and sandalwood. None of those fit. He tried wands with a phoenix feather core, a unicorn hair, a dragon heartstring. None of those worked for Neville. Sighing in frustration, Mr. Ollivander tried dozens of wands and nothing seemed to quite do the trick.

Finally the light of inspiration hit his face and he climbed to the top of a shelf and reached deep back, almost pushing his whole body back on the shelf to reach all the way back. Pulling out a box that was covered with dust, Mr. Ollivander looked speculatively at Neville and offered a tiny grin.

"I don't know if this will work, but I don't have many options left," he said with a smile.

Mr. Ollivander carefully opened the box, breaking a centuries old seal, and held out the box to Neville. Neville peered inside and gingerly put his hand on the wand and grasped it in his fist.

Almost immediately his hand started to glow a soft, vibrant green color. The color slowly spread along his arm, and in a flash his whole body started glowing that bright green color that looked so clean it was almost alive. Neville's eyes widened and he looked frantically from Mr. Ollivander to his grandmother to Harry. With nods of encouragement he waved his wand and a bright light shot out of the end. Several feet away a tiny plant appeared and started growing rapidly. With a startled look, Neville shot another spell at the plant and it stopped increasing its size.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "How'd that happen?"

"This wand fits you quite well, my dear boy," explained Mr. Ollivander. "It is quite an unusual wand, made by an ancestor of mine several centuries ago. He only kept the one with that material. He made others, but ended up destroying them after no customers bought them. In its core you have the feather and hair of a gryffon. The wand itself is made from a plant, not a tree. My ancestor worked with the plant for years to strengthen it so it would be usable, the work of several decades, I assure you."

"What is it?" Mrs. Longbottom asked. "What plant?"

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Neville whispered, just barely loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Exactly," said Mr. Ollivander with a bright smile.

Harry quietly paid as Neville showed his grandmother a few other spells with his new wand and again found himself opening the door for the crowd. Not that he minded. But he was surprised when his friends all gasped in shock as they left the wand shop.

People were running down the street, trying to rush into the Leaky Cauldron. Many witches and wizards were panicking and others were dropping their parcels in fear and then quickly Apparating away from the crowd, leaving their shopping behind.

Confused, Harry pushed past Hermione and looked down the street, but couldn't see anything that was causing a disturbance. Then he noticed the covering of frost rapidly spreading across the windows of the nearby shops . He looked up in the air and saw blurred figures swooping around in the sky.

"Dementors," he spat. "We have to help."

"Not a chance Harry," Mad Eye said, removing his Invisibility Cloak and making a quick motion with his wand. "We have to get you lot to safety. Now."

Harry drew his wand and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but no. I can cast a Patronus, and it's corporeal. So can Hermione, and I think Ron and Ginny can as well. We can help. Look at them out there, everyone's panicking and they need us."

Harry walked towards the rushing crowd and Mad Eye raised his wand again.

"I'm sorry Professor," Harry said, without looking at Moody. "But I'd think about that before you do anything. Are you certain my protection isn't still in effect? I'd hate to see any spell rebound on you, and right now I'd imagine that any spell you cast would be construed as hostile."

For the first time that he could recall, Alastor Moody faltered. The young man in front of him raised a good point. Not even Dumbledore was entirely certain how that protection worked in every detail, and Moody didn't propose to be the one to find out. More importantly, the boy had offered him a perfectly acceptable excuse to let them all fight the blasted Dementors without getting yelled at by Molly for endangering their lives. Moody lowered his wand and nodded at Harry with a feral grin.

"Sorry, but we won't go," said Harry, seeming to know exactly what argument Moody was having in his mind. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny nodded their agreement with Harry as they drew their wands. "I'll explain it to Mrs. Weasley when we have time, but we have to get out there now. Before someone gets kissed."

"All right, but we do it my way. You lot stay behind me. You all cast your Patronus and herd the damn monsters to the other end of the street until all of the civilians get clear. Then we get clear to. I'm sure Arthur will be sending Aurors as soon as possible."

Moody stomped towards the crowd, pushing the terrified civilians out of his way, followed closely by Harry and the others.

"When we push these creatures back, I want all of you to get to the Leaky Cauldron and Floo out of here," he barked at the panicked mob. "Start running," he snapped as he thrust out his wand and shouted "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A huge spray of silver shot out of his wand and a scruffy looking three headed dog materialized in the center. The dog's tail was shortened, as if it had been cut in half, one of its heads was missing an eye, and all but one of its six ears had savage bites taken out of them. Harry saw that the front left paw was missing a toe, and despite the circumstances he smiled at the thought that this Patronus was very fitting to its owner.

Before he faltered from the foul nature of the Dementors, Harry thrust out his wand and followed Moody's lead by casting his Patronus charm. Prongs shot out of his wand, glowing silver with the strength of Harry's will. The two animals quickly charged through the swarm of Dementors floating above the center of Diagon Alley. Prongs lowered his head and charged at the Dementors, batting several of the dreadful beasts out of his way.

"Hermione, I've never cast a solid Patronus," Ron whispered, doubting himself. "I don't know if I'll be able to now."

"Ron, don't you think that maybe you've got a happy memory or two locked away that will fuel your Patronus?" Hermione asked calmly, trying to reassure her boyfriend.

"Well, maybe," he said. "What's yours?"

"It used to be the time when you and Harry saved me from the Troll."

"And now?"

"The first time we kissed. That's my happiest thought," Hermione said with a smile as she pulled out her wand and aimed it skywards.

As Harry concentrated on Prongs, out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron grab Hermione's hand and the two of them shouted in unison, silver spray flooding out of their wands. Hermione's graceful otter darted out ahead of her colliding in to a Dementor that had shot towards the fleeing patrons. As the otter corralled to Dementor away, Harry watched with surging approval as the mist from Ron's wand formed into a massive war horse. Harry immediately recognized it as the steed that Ron had mounted in their first year when saving the Stone from Professor Quirrel. The steed was massive, probably twice as tall as Prongs, and it bowed its head and plunged into the fray. After a moment they were joined by a massive bumblebee, a hundred times bigger than a real live bee, but it was obviously Neville's Patronus, and Harry thought it quite appropriate for the Herbology expert.

Hermione's otter skittered between the Dementors, pushing the Dementors back, away from the ground, while Ron's war horse and Neville's bee pushed them further up into the air. Prongs and Mad Eye's three-headed dog came in from the flanks and effectively pinned the Dementors in the skies above Diagon Alley as the frightened witches and wizards entered the Leaky Cauldron. The crowd thinned as everyone eventually made their way into the tavern.

"Harry, we can make our way now," Mad Eye said. "Everyone's out of here, so we can get out of here."

Harry nodded in agreement and motioned to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Neville grabbed his grandmother's hand and pushed her behind him, protecting her from the dark creatures. They all started slowly backing away from the Dementors while Ginny walked with her back to them, her wand pointed in front of her should anything attempt to attack while the others were distracted. Mad Eye watched in approval. The Dementors just floated silently, having been pushed back far enough to avoid the effects of the Patronus spell. As they reached the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry turned and pulled open the door.

Taking a quick look inside to ensure that it was safe, Harry motioned to the others to enter and returned his attention to the Dementors and Prongs who was slowly marching back and forth, prowling sentry in front of the foul beings. Neville looked at Harry and released his Patronus.

"I've got to get Gran to safety," he said. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, go," Harry replied. "We'll distract them while everyone escapes and then Moody will get Aurors here from the Ministry. You two go now. I guess we'll see you at school."

"I guess," Neville nodded nervously. "Thanks for the wand Harry, really. C'mon Gran, we got to go."

Mrs. Longbottom nodded her head and the two of them ran in to the tavern. Harry saw the flash of green flame out of the corner of his eye and relaxed a little as the two of them escaped.

Harry then nodded at Hermione and Ron to release their spells, the otter and war steed faded away into a silvery mist and they ran into the tavern.

"Where should we go? Hermione shouted. "We can't Floo to Headquarters and the Burrow might not be safe."

"Go to the Ministry," Mad Eye roared back, "Arthur added new security there and it'll be secure. Now go!"

Ron and Hermione grabbed a handful of powder and ran into the fireplace, shouting "The Ministry of Magic!" as they dove into the flames and disappeared. Just as Moody turned to shout to Harry and Ginny a shaft of green light shot into the air in the middle of Diagon Alley and the echoes of the spell that caused it rang in Harry's ears.

"MORS MORDRE!"

A scowl crossed Harry's face and his eyes furrowed in anger. He couldn't see the wizard that had cast that dirty spell, and he didn't recognize the voice. In the sky above him the results of the spell started to waft into shape, a green skull with a snake entwined in its gaping mouth, the symbol of Voldemort, taking hazy form.

Prongs galloped through the green mist, his silver radiance not diminishing in the slightest, but the Dementors, finally realizing that the otter and war steed were gone pushed forward.

"Quick," Moody shouted to Harry and Ginny. "You two go now, we'll follow."

Before they could react, another spell shot through the air, this time aimed at Harry.

"Stupefy!" the voice shouted, and Harry turned and saw the spell racing towards him. Out of instinct Harry ducked and tried to pull Ginny down with him, but she stepped away from his grip and shouted a quick shielding spell. The stunning spell shot straight toward her and hit her shield with a resounding clang, bouncing harmlessly away from her shield. In a slight blur she waved her wand and cast three quick hexes in the same direction that the stunner had come from. Waiting for a sound, none came.

"The bastard is Apparating in and out, I can't get a lock on him," Moody said ferociously. "Not and concentrate on those bastards up there, that is."

"Leave them to me," Harry said. "Prongs can keep them at bay long enough for you to find him and blast him, whoever he is."

Moody cast a speculative glance at Harry while his magical eye kept whirling around, looking for their opponent. Moody finally shrugged and nodded in affirmation. "Your mother's going to have my hide, young miss," he sighed as he released his Patronus, the dog fading away with a growl. Stomping away from Harry and Ginny, he whirled his Invisibility Cloak around himself and disappeared from view.

"Two can play at this game, Deatheater," he mumbled as the soft sound of his Apparition softly popped in the air.

Ginny stepped closer to Harry and cast her shield again. Smiling up at him she gently poked him in his ribs. "You know Ron and Hermione are going to be furious with us."

"Yeah, well, we didn't know a Deatheater was here when they went. You know, you can go if you want, I'll be fine. Once Moody catches the Deatheater, we'll leave."

"And leave you alone with those things?" Ginny asked, pointing up to the Dementors who were pressing a little closer since Prongs was the only Patronus keeping them away. "Not a chance Harry."

"I thought I'd give it a shot, this way I can tell your Mum I did," Harry replied with a forced grin.

Just then they heard the sound of someone Apparating nearby and they both snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. The wizard muttered a spell and a beam shot out of nowhere towards Harry and Ginny. But instead of shooting straight towards the two of them, and Ginny's shimmering shield, the spell shot up at the roof of the building. With a bright explosion, a portion of the building came crashing down at the two of them.

Harry gasped and grabbed Ginny by the shoulders, pulling her away from the collapsing rubble. They tumbled to the ground, bumping into each other and losing their breath as the shock of the fall hit them both. As they stopped rolling, Harry started choking from the dust that blew at the two of them, but urgently pointed his wand in the direction of where he thought his attacker was standing.

Another "Pop!" of Apparition and the familiar voice of Mad Eye Moody shouted a series of hexes and curses at the other invisible wizard. Harry groggily saw the spells intersect with their attacker, and for a moment he glowed with the series of spells. With a strangled cry the wizard fell to the ground with a thud, and Harry could see the edges of an Invisibility Cloak revealing the telltale black robes of a Deatheater. Moody also removed his own Invisibility Robe and stomped over to the fallen Deatheater. As he kicked the man, turning him over, Moody paled with a gasp and fell to his knees. A trio of Dementors swooped down from the sky and hovered just a foot above Moody. With a murmured cry of "Expecto Patronum" he tried valiantly to summon his three-headed dog back into existence. The silvery vapor started to coalesce, but several more Dementors swarmed down and knocked Moody off his knees, forcing him to collapse on his back.

Harry stood up in the rubble, trying to clear his head, but he could faintly hear the cries of his mother, merged with the cries of Sirius as he fell through the Veil. Trying to concentrate on a happy thought, Harry flashed through memory after memory, trying to trigger his spell. But the cries in his head were too loud and Harry was overwhelmed. Collapsing to his knees with his hands over his ears, Harry started shivering and twitching from the agony in his head.

Ginny was rigidly standing just a few feet away from Harry. She was covered in a layer of dust from the building and pieces of mortar stuck to her chin where a thin line of blood was oozing. She heard the sibilant voice of Tom Riddle, memories from her first year at Hogwarts, taunting her as she opened up the Chamber of Secrets. The image of the basilisk pushing through the rubble startled her, but somehow gave her the resolve she needed.

"That monster's dead," she muttered to herself. Gripping her wand, she thrust it out in front of her and screamed bloody murder. As courage infused her, washing through her mind, she became clear headed. Searching through her mind, she found her happiest memory. Staring defiantly at the looming Dementors she scowled and shouted "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Hoping against hope that her animal would finally appear, she was disappointed when the silver mist did not materialize into a solid form. But the silver spray was very strong, strong enough to push the Dementors away from Moody and away from Harry. Ginny stepped forward, standing in the middle of the two fallen men and concentrated on her happy thoughts. The Dementors seemed to howl in rage, having been denied their prey and started battering at Ginny's shield.

Just as Ginny thought she was going to be overwhelmed, Moody started to stir. With a quick glance at Ginny and Harry, Moody clutched his wand, shook his head, and roared defiantly "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" His three headed dog appeared and immediately took off after the Dementors, knocking them away from Ginny's shield, shoving them back into the sky.

With a quick swoop of his arms, Moody picked up Harry and the fallen Deatheater and started moving towards the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

"C'mon young Weasley, let's get out of here. I don't know where the Aurors are, but we need to get away, now."

Ginny nodded and dropped her shield. With quick waves of her wand she pushed piles of rubble out of the way of the door, clearing a path for herself and Moody. Mad Eye grunted in approval and motioned for her to go through the door first. As they made their way to the fireplace, Ginny started to pick up the Floo powder but paused when Moody put a hand on her shoulder.

"These two can't travel that way, not right now," he said. Pointing at a broken chair with his wand, he made a complex wave with his wand and said "Portus."

The chair glowed blue for a moment, then the light faded. Moody shoved the Deatheater onto the seat and shot ropes around him, securing him to the chair. He then grabbed hold of Harry and took hold of the chair, motioning for Ginny to do the same.

Just as Ginny grabbed at the chair she saw the familiar, imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore appear suddenly on the streets of Diagon Alley. With a resounding echo his voice rocked throughout the Alley.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he roared with righteous fury, silver spray shooting out of his wand and the glorious form of a phoenix bursting forth.

"Damn!" snapped Moody as the familiar effect of a portkey snapped them away, leaving Dumbledore to eliminate the threat.

---XXX---

Ron and Hermione emerged from the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic, only to find that Diagon Alley was not the only place with problems. Once more the lobby of the Ministry of Magic had obviously been the site of a significant battle. Blast marks scorched the walls in dozens of places. Furniture had been blown to bits, and there were several bodies lying on the ground. Instinctively the couple drew out their wands and stepped back into a corner, trying to see what was going on.

Out of the corner of his eye Ron saw a flash of balding red hair several yards away and turned in that direction.

"Dad?" he called to the familiarly shaped figure. "What the bloody hell happened here?"

"Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked in surprise. "What are you doing here? And Hermione too?" he asked as he stepped closer to them. "I thought you were shopping today."

"We were Dad. Diagon Alley was attacked by Dementors. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"KINGSLEY!" roared Mr. Weasley, no longer just the concerned father but also the powerful Minister of Magic. "Dementor attack at Diagon Alley," he barked. "Find whatever Aurors you can, minus the guards, and get over there now."

"Right away Minister," Shacklebolt replied. "I'll inform Albus as well."

"No, I'll do that," sighed Mr. Weasley. Kingsley nodded, then turned and started jogging down the hallway, barking commands and telling the small band of Aurors to follow him. Mr. Weasley returned his attention to Ron and Hermione. "And where are your mother and sister? And Harry?"

"Ginny and Harry are with Mad Eye, they should be following us momentarily," Ron said hurriedly. "Dad, there were dozens of Dementors, it was intense. But Harry, Mad Eye, Hermione, and I, we each cast our Patronus and held them off so everyone could escape. But I don't know where Mum is. I thought she'd be here."

"No," Mr. Weasley said, his eyes widening. "I thought she was with you. When did you separate?"

"Pretty early," Ron said, concern growing in his mind. "We went to Gringotts and then Fred and George's. Oh sweet Merlin, I forgot about them. Where are Fred and George? We have to go back and get them."

"Ron, stop," Mr. Weasley said, trying to calm his son down, which was difficult since Mr. Weasley himself was starting to get worried. "Every merchant at Diagon Alley has an emergency Portkey they were given for a situation like this. They are sent to a safe locale where we can make sure they are all okay. They'll be released once the Aurors declare Diagon Alley to be safe. So the twins are fine, I'm sure. But where could your mother be?"

"I don't know Dad, I'm worried," Ron said, his voice choking.

"Me too, Ron, me too."

---XXX---

Mrs. Weasley squared her shoulders as she walked out of Fred and George's shop. She hadn't told her husband or her other children, but she had another reason for the trip to Diagon Alley that day other than to let her charges do some shopping.

Every mother tries to tell herself that she treats each of her children fairly and loves them all equally. But every mother of more than one child knows, deep down, that there is always one child that's just a bit more special, a bit more protected, a bit more dear in her heart. For Molly Weasley that child was Percy.

Despite his numerous shortcomings, and they were obvious even to her, Molly knew that he was her most precious child. He needed the most love, needed the most care, and needed his mother the most. It was true even if he didn't necessarily realize it.

She would never give up hope that he could be brought back into the fold. She hoped that he'd find a way to seek forgiveness, admit his errors, and forgive his family for whatever slights, perceived or real, that he had felt over the years. Nothing could ever sway Molly's hope, and she was determined to make it happen.

So for months Molly had tried to reach out to Percy. Owls were sent to his apartment, his office, and to Penelope. They all went unanswered, but still she wrote more. When Arthur was in the hospital Molly thought her heart would break when Percy didn't even stop in to see his father. But she rationalized it away, coming up with one silly excuse for her precious child after another. Then when Arthur became Minister, one of the proudest days of her life, she had fervently hoped that Percy would rejoin the family.

Her heart soared when Harry had approached him and they had an urgent conversation. Her sixth 'son,' precious to her as all the others, had tried to help Percy find his way home. But something happened. Certainly she didn't blame Harry, but how could she blame her poor wounded Percy?

When Percy ran out of the courtroom, weeping in hysterics, Molly's heart almost broke into pieces. To see her precious Percy reject the family so thoroughly, so completely, it gnawed at her soul.

Of course Molly wasn't stupid. She knew how blind her son was to the real world. He was so obsessed with political power and righteous indignation with the Order. No mother could possibly ignore it. But instead she found ways to excuse his boorish behavior, or blame herself for not doing something, anything, to help him see the error of his ways.

But finally a ray of hope came shining through. Percy had responded! It was a short note, terse and to the point, but her son had asked to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron, in a private room for lunch.

Of course she would go, there was no doubt. She sorely wanted to tell her husband, to bring him with her, but she resisted that temptation. Bringing her wayward son back to the fold would require a mother's patience and skill. And Molly was committed to doing it, however long it took her, whatever the cost. If she could have her whole family back together, she'd do it.

Her hands were always what gave her away, she thought ruefully as she turned the handle. They always shook slightly when she was nervous, no matter what she did to quell the shaking. Opening the door, she poked her head in first, to give her hands a moment to calm down.

"Percy," she said in a calm and clear voice that belied her nervousness. "Darling, are you here?"

"Hello Mother," Percy said, very formally as he stood up from his chair and gestured her in to join him at the table. "Please, take a seat."

Molly immediately rushed forward to grab her son in one of her trademark hugs, but just as she reached his side she sensed something different, something odd, about her son's demeanor. Nervously she hesitated, fighting every instinct to grab her precious boy, she haltingly took her seat.

"I'm so grateful that you finally responded to my letters, Percy," Mrs. Weasley started. "I just want you to know that I love you, I will always love you."

A tear formed in Percy's eyes, but that emotion was not reflected in his voice.

"Yes Mother, thank you," he said, almost coldly. "Now, as to why we're here. I want you to talk with father for me, to offer him our- er, my help. He's making several mistakes, naturally, and a steady hand needs to guide the Ministry."

"Well, of course, Percy," Mrs. Weasley said with a strained voice. "If that's what you want, we can do that. You know your father would welcome your help, all you have to do is ask him."

Percy had obviously ordered food because just at that moment it arrived. Molly served herself, and out of habit served Percy, and nervously started to eat while filling Percy in on the rest of the family. It was normal, inane chatter that all mothers are good at filling nervous space. But Percy seemed completely disinterested in the news and ate almost mechanically.

It was his eyes, Molly realized. His eyes truly gave him away. Despite the mechanical nature of his voice, the almost stiff movement of his body, his eyes were in turmoil. Glistening with tears at each mention of his siblings, his pupils seemed to contract in pain when Molly mentioned the names of Ron and Ginny in particular.

As she tried to determine what exactly was wrong with her child, she paused when she saw him haltingly grab a platter of biscuits that was there when she had walked in. Confused, she reached up and took hold of the platter, not having asked him for it. At that moment his eyes contracted in horror and a soft gasp escaped from his lips.

"Oh Mummy, forgive me," he groaned.

Before Molly could react, before she could think, she felt the obvious pull of a portkey as the two of them disappeared in a blink.

---XXX---

"Mother, stop crying," Draco said commandingly. "We all have to make certain sacrifices, just accept it and move on. You do want to help assure the Dark Lord's victory, don't you?

Narcissa raised herself up on her shoulders from her prone position on her bed with tear stained eyes. She looked at her son with deepest loathing. From the moment he was born she had doted on him with every fiber of her being. She had focused all of her attention on Draco, trying to mold him into a future leader of the country, or the world. Narcissa knew that her husband and the Dark Lord would inevitably win, but she also knew that they would eventually die, by natural or unnatural means. So of course the future leader must be prepared.

She had given Draco every advantage, every opportunity, every resource he would need to be that leader. She had protected Draco from her husband's rages in those trying years when the Dark Lord had vanished. She made sure that Draco went to Hogwarts, over her husband's most strenuous objections. Durmstrang was all well and good, she knew, but the elitist in her knew that Hogwarts was still better. Even with that wretched Dumbledore running the place.

And what better luck than to have her darling Draco at school with the famous Harry Potter! What better foil could her darling ask for in his rise to power? If Draco could torment the 'hero' of the wizarding world, demonstrate his pure blood superiority over that orphan boy, well then, the world would know that they were ruled by a truly superior being.

But this was too much. What the Dark Lord asked of her was too big of a sacrifice, even for her darling Draco's future. Why would she have to be the pawn in this game? Why did she have to be an integral part of her husband's rescue? Couldn't they find another?

Narcissa had begged the Dark Lord to consider other options, but he refused. She had pleaded with her son to intervene, but he coldly rejected her. After everything she had done for him, after every sacrifice she had made for him, her son sided with that foul abomination over her. Despair clenched at her soul and she shuddered with desolation. And tomorrow morning the day of her doom would be at hand.


	19. Love and Marriage

Chapter 19 – Love and Marriage

"Dad," Ron said, anxiety stressing his words. "Mom had to escape with the other shoppers, right? Maybe she went home, to the Burrow, let's go there."

"Well," Mr. Weasley hesitated, torn between his duty to the wizarding world and his desire to protect his family. "I need to stay here," he finally said with a sigh. "Things are too chaotic for me to leave. But you two go. I need you to find your mother for me. I'll be here, so you can Floo me when you find out where she is. But I don't want you going outside of the Burrow. We've put up some wards, but those only protect the house itself. Floo there, see if your mother is there, and then come back here right away. Do you understand?"

"Yes Dad, I understand." Ron said with a determined voice. "Let's go," he continued, grabbing Hermione by the hand and running to the fireplaces.

With a quick shout of "The Burrow" the two of them disappeared in the green flames and shortly emerged into the familiar environment of the Burrow. It had been almost a year since Ron had been in his home, but nothing had really changed.

"MUM!" Ron shouted frantically, running into the kitchen, only to find it empty. Turning quickly he ran up the stairs, shouting for his mother as he searched each and every room on the main level. He kept going up the stairs, even frantically searching the attic, but he found nothing. Dismayed to find the entire house empty, Ron belatedly realized that Hermione hadn't followed him.

Swearing, he ran back down the stairs, looking for his girlfriend. As he ran back into the living room he immediately pulled out his wand when he saw Hermione's pale face. She was as white as Peeves and was staring in horror. Turning around in a tight circle, wand ready to attack, Ron was confused when he didn't see anything.

"What's the deal Hermione?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"The clock," she whispered with agony in her voice.

Ron turned around again and glanced at the clock. Confused, he looked more closely at the hands and gasped when he saw that his mother's wand was pointed to a spot that he never, ever would have thought to see his mother's clock hand pointed. "Mortal Peril," he whispered, indicating where the hand pointed. Ron's heart slumped and he almost fell to the ground, swaying in despair.

"There's more," Hermione whispered. "Look at Percy's."

"TRAITOR!" Ron bellowed, rage infusing his voice. "I'LL KILL THE BLOODY BASTARD. I'LL KILL HIM!"

Before Ron could figure out how to follow through on that threat, they heard a commotion from the kitchen and Ginny's frantic voice wafted through the house.

"Mum?" she called. "Mum are you here? Harry needs chocolate. We all do. Mum? Mum?" Ron's throat constricted at the tiredness he heard in his sister's voice.

She stepped in to the living room and let out a startled squeal as she saw Ron and Hermione. "What are you two doing here? I thought you went to the Ministry?" she asked as she rushed over and grabbed Ron in a big hug as tears slipped out of her eyes. Since Ron was still wrapped up in his rage, his hug for Ginny was full of tension.

Ginny noticed that Ron was unusually distraught and turned to look at the object of his anger. Seeing the clock, and where the hands were pointed, she shrieked in rage.

"OH NO!" she moaned, tears springing to her eyes as she clutched her arms around Ron's shoulders. "What has he done? Where is Mum? We have to do something."

Just as Ginny cried out Moody stomped out of the kitchen, dragging an unconscious Deatheater roughly behind him.

"Weasley, where's your chocolate?" he asked. "We all need some, especially Harry."

Confused and enraged Ron looked at Moody dumbly, not sure what Moody was doing in their home or why he was asking for chocolate. Ginny was still weeping against his chest, and Ron just stood there. Frustrated by Ron's lack of action Moody started to speak again when his magical eye stopped on the clock's face.

"Sweet Merlin," he sighed. "I'll go to the Ministry right away and inform Arthur. Where's your Floo powder? I have to bring this wastrel with me."

"Professor, wait," Hermione said, grabbing his arm. "You said you all needed chocolate, was there a problem in Diagon Alley?"

"We captured this bastard and the Dementors momentarily overwhelmed us. I'm fine, and so is Harry, he's just exhausted."

Hermione nodded her head and ran into the kitchen. Breaking off a big chunk for Harry who was slumped in a chair, she ordered him to eat it before racing back into the living room to give some to Moody and Ginny. Moody bit off a huge chunk and rapidly chewed through the piece. Color started returning to his face and the slump in his shoulders straightened out slightly.

"Ron, your Floo powder please? I need to inform your father right away."

Ron was still incapable of coherent thought. His mind was focused on the various ways he was going to cause pain to his older brother. Moody's request washed briefly over his consciousness, but was drowned out by the barely audible sobs coming from his baby sister. Finally a voice broke through the fog in his mind, a voice Ron knew he'd follow for the rest of his life, no matter the danger, no matter the cost.

"No Professor," Harry said tiredly, leaning on the door frame. "We'll all go. Their family needs to be together. We'll need to put our heads together to find Mrs. Weasley, I have an idea, but Hermione will need to help me work out the details."

Ron's head snapped up as relief washed over him. If anyone he knew could figure out a way to save his Mum, it would be Harry and Hermione. His best mate and his girlfriend would never let him down, they all meant too much to each other.

Harry gingerly walked over to Moody and whispered something to him. Nodding his head, Moody quickly disappeared with his soft "pop" of apparition. Harry picked up the pot of Floo powder and held it up to Ron and Ginny, who had hastily composed herself and was looking sheepishly at them.

"Sorry," she mumbled as Harry handed her a handful of Floo powder.

"Don't," Harry responded simply, grabbing her free hand with a squeeze. "It's okay to be overwhelmed in light of everything. We'll get her back, I promise."

Ginny gave Harry a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek, her eyes watering again.

"Okay," she sighed. "Let's go."

Before they left the Burrow, Harry and Hermione both shot stunning spells at the Deatheater again, made sure the ropes were tied very securely, and snapped his wand in half. Harry tucked the broken wand halves in his pocket and smiled grimly at the others.

"We'll tell your Dad to send someone to pick him up, but let's go. We have to get your Mum back."

---XXX---

Coughing a bit as he emerged from a fireplace at the Ministry, Harry tripped on a brick and stumbled a few steps before catching his balance. Shaking his head ruefully he scanned the damage of the battle that had taken place in the Ministry and scowled at the devastation.

As Ron, Ginny, and Hermione appeared behind him, Harry noticed with a sigh that none of them had any problems traveling by Floo. He nodded at them to follow him, and the foursome marched through the Ministry, looking for Mr. Weasley.

They found him down near the lift, consulting with several elderly wizards and a few newly minted Aurors. Seeing his children return, without their mother, Mr. Weasley's face grew drawn in anticipation of bad news.

"Where's your mother?" he asked quietly, guiding them away from the Ministry workers he was talking with.

"Dad, she's in danger, the clock pointed to 'Mortal Peril' and Percy, he's to blame," Ron said rapidly, anger coursing through his voice.

Mr. Weasley merely nodded, taking in the information, but Harry saw Mr. Weasley's eyes clench in pain. "What do you mean Percy's to blame," Mr. Weasley asked quietly, looking to Harry and Hermione for confirmation. When no one spoke at first, Mr. Weasley's ears started to turn red, his frustration level building. Finally Ginny spoke up.

"Dad, his hand was pointed to 'Traitor,'" she choked out, tears springing to her eyes as she shook her head, trying to stop emotion from overwhelming her.

Mr. Weasley paled and his shoulders slumped. He sagged back against a nearby wall and started rubbing his temples. "Sweet Merlin, what am I going to do?" he whispered, speaking to himself.

Harry reached out and grabbed Mr. Weasley's arm in a firm grasp. "I think I have an idea on how to find her, Mr. Weasley. But we need to wait for Professor Moody to get back here. It should only be a few minutes."

"While we're waiting Mr. Weasley," Hermione asked quietly, "could you tell us what happened here?"

"It was a Deatheater attack," the Minister of Magic replied, his eyes lost in thoughts of his missing wife. "Two dozen of them showed up at once and started blasting everything in sight. Fortunately we've been putting in some better security, and half of the bastards were caught right away.

"The others made their way through the Ministry, apparently causing random damage, intent on destroying everything in their path. Kingsley and I managed to rally the staff and ordered most of them to get to safety. The Ministry can be rebuilt, the people can't."

Harry nodded his head in agreement with that thought, and was grateful that Mr. Weasley was so concerned about the people who worked for the Ministry. Harry knew Mr. Weasley was trying his best to be a good Minister, and this attack would be damaging to his efforts to make people feel secure in these dark times.

"They started making their way down to the Department of Mysteries, and we realized that their goal had to be freeing Lucius and the others. We couldn't afford that, he's too valuable to Voldemort, so Kingsley and I, along with my bodyguards, chased after them. We managed to subdue them before they reached Malfoy's cell, but both of my bodyguards lost their lives in the attack."

Mr. Weasley's eyes welled up at the memory of his guards being hit by the dreaded Killing Curse. His hands shaking, he paused and leaned against the wall. Ginny reached out and grabbed him in a hug, her own eyes welling as she sensed her father's pain. The two of them hugged for several moments while Harry seethed at the injustice. Ron was still fuming and Hermione was trying to calm him down, rubbing his hands and whispering soothing words to him.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron finally shouted, unable to control his anger. "What are we going to do Dad?"

"We rebuild, son. We mourn our losses, but we go on. We have to, to honor the dead. Auror Jones and Auror Smith were brave, honorable men. I owe my life to them, and I will never forget their sacrifice. But we have to go on, to defeat the fear and terror. They knew the risks, and accepted them. We have to honor their memory."

"Good advice Arthur," Moody said after appearing quietly behind them. Perched on his shoulder was Hedwig and he was carrying several brooms and Harry's invisibility cloak. "Never let the bastards win. We'll fight until we win."

Arthur nodded his head, his face a mixture of sadness and determination. Straightening his shoulders he looked at Harry and Moody with a questioning look.

"What are your plans to rescue my wife?" he asked, not allowing hope to enter his voice, not yet.

"I think Hedwig can find her, Mr. Weasley," Harry said. "She's never had any problem finding anyone, and Sirius thought she'd even be able to find him when he was running from the Aurors. But he wouldn't let me use her because she's so distinctive."

"The boy's got a good idea Arthur," Moody said encouragingly. "We can follow his bird wherever she goes and determine what to do when we find out where she is."

"I think there's a flaw in your plan," Mr. Weasley said. "But I don't see any other options. Let's do it."

Just as Harry was about to talk with Hedwig, a dark, ugly owl swooped down and dropped a package into Mr. Weasley's hands. Startled, Mr. Weasley reached out and took a scroll off the top of the package. Breaking the seal he stared wordlessly at the document, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes scanned the piece of parchment. Finally, having obviously reached the end, his face paled and then shot beet red in anger. His hands started clenching in rage, wrinkling the parchment, and his entire body tensed in deepest anger.

Throwing the parchment to the ground he ripped open the package to reveal a lock of red hair and a simple ink well. Holding it in his hands he started swearing sulfurously, forgetting that his youngest children were there.

With an angry grunt, Moody bent down to pick up the parchment, but he was beat by Harry who quickly read the document.

Arthur:

We have your wife. She is currently safe with us, but the future of that depends entirely on you.

Minister Fudge is not pleased with your usurpation of his rightful position, and intends on resuming his role as Minister of Magic. Only your full cooperation in this endeavor will secure the release of your wife.

The Portkey inside the package will deliver you to our location where you will abdicate your position as Minister and declare Cornelius Fudge as your successor.

You will come alone, without your wand. If you come accompanied, or with your wand, we will immediately kill both you and your wife.

The Portkey will activate when you speak the phrase "Fudge for Minister."

Dolores Umbridge

Both Harry and Moody snarled with anger as they finished the note, joining Arthur in his cursing. Suddenly Arthur stopped his furious pacing and pushed his wand into Moody's hands.

"I have no choice but to go," he announced. "Contact Albus and let him know what has happened. He's at Diagon Alley, fighting the Dementors."

"Arthur, no," snarled Moody as he grabbed hold of the Minister's shoulder. Moody handed Arthur's wand to Harry as he reached to get a better hold of Mr. Weasley. "Think of what you are doing. We can find another way. Let us try the bird, or wait for Dumbledore."

Shaking his head determinedly, Arthur smiled sadly at Moody and the others. "Molly is my life. Nothing else matters if she is in danger. I have to go to her, now."

Moody was about to make a more strenuous protest when his magical eye suddenly snapped around in his head. A small, feral grin broke out across his face, and he simply nodded.

"Fine," Moody said, releasing his death grip on Arthur's shoulders. "Just take care of yourself, Arthur. Don't do anything foolish, we'll try to get to you as soon as possible."

Arthur nodded his head grimly, and held out the Portkey.

"I'll return with your mother," he said to his two children as he prepared to disappear.

"Be safe Dad," Ron said, putting his arm around his sister.

"We'll follow as soon as we can," Ginny added.

Mr. Weasley nodded and spoke the words to activate the portkey, saying "Fudge for Minister." Without so much as a breeze, he suddenly disappeared, leaving an empty space in the middle of the solemn group.

Ron and Ginny stared wordlessly at the space their father had vacated, forcing their thoughts to stay positive and hopeful for the safe return of both of their parents. Mad-Eye Moody and Hermione stood silently, neither wanting to break the silence.

Suddenly Hermione spun around in a circle, swiveling her head, obviously looking for something. With suspicion in her eyes she whirled around to face Mad-Eye.

"Professor Moody," she asked firmly. "Where's Harry?"

---XXX---

A shocked Mrs. Weasley gasped as the effects of the Portkey released her and she glanced rapidly around, taking in her surroundings. Percy had collapsed to the ground, his hands clutching his head as he moaned and mumbled to himself. Her mother's instinct having long since kicked in, she knew something was terribly wrong with her son, and the fact that they had been portkeyed to this place screamed at every fiber in her being.

Reaching for her wand as she tried to calm herself and survey the room that they had landed in, she surveyed the solid steel door that closed them in. Stepping closer to examine the door, Mrs. Weasley pulled the sleeves of her robe up and tried to unlock the door. The handle turned a bright red for a moment, but the door remained firmly locked. Scowling, she gripped her wand firmly and shot a spell at the door to test its strength. To her surprise the spell shot back at her. Diving to the side, the spell crashed into the wall behind her, spraying stone and mortar throughout the room. Unfortunately her child didn't see what was happening and a large piece of the wall landed with a thud on his head, knocking him unconscious.

Startled that she was contained in such a strong room, one that had been obviously prepared for her imprisonment, she shook her head in anger. Standing up, more furious than ever, she brushed herself off and stared at the door again, intent on freeing herself from this cramped room.

"Well, THAT won't work," she muttered to herself. "Let's see what a Hogwarts education can provide for me in this situation."

Searching in her memory for useful spells, she carefully probed the room, looking for weaknesses, testing the wards and protections placed on the room. Just as she was about to cast another attack on the door, she gasped as she saw it start to glow red. Silently watching the door, observing every detail as the glow from the door filled the room, Mrs. Weasley only slightly noticed that it was getting more and more difficult to breathe.

Her body started to sway as she realized that she wasn't getting enough air as she breathed. Her lungs pumped furiously as she gasped for breath, trying to reach for air, but it didn't come. Panic started to set in as the last of the remaining air in her lungs started to fade away. With a stumbled step she tripped and bounced toward the door, her wand falling to the ground with a loud clatter. She struggled to reach the door, but bright spots of black light appeared in her vision, distorting her view as she stumbled to the door.

Collapsing to her knees, her hands reached the door and she tried to pull at it with her last ounce of strength. With a dizzying whirl her entire body fell to the ground by the door, her lungs still straining to find some air to breathe in. Belatedly she thought of the bubble-head charm, but the lack of air caused her to forget how to flick her wand properly, and the charm failed.

The last thing that Mrs. Weasley saw before she lost consciousness was the door suddenly springing open. Through the fog of pain and panic, she couldn't make out the figure in the doorway, but she did see two stubby little feet in gaudy heels step toward her.

And then Mrs. Weasley blacked out.

---XXX---

"Where is Harry?" demanded Hermione, advancing on Mad-Eye.

"Why do you think I know," he asked with a slightly feral grin.

"Because you brought his cloak, which is now gone. He's gone too. Did he latch on to Mr. Weasley?"

"WHAT?!?" shouted Ron and Ginny. Both were horrified at the thought of their father going alone to wherever the foul little toad had taken their mother, but both were also distraught at Harry's disappearance.

"Harry hasn't the strength right now," protested Ginny. "He's still weak from the Dementors."

"Nonsense," Moody said gruffly. "True, we were both hit by those bastards, but he'll be fine. He's protecting a woman he loves like a mother, he'll find the strength, trust me. And it was the only way to send someone with Arthur without letting him know."

"Tell me Professor," Ron said with a calculating look. "Where is my father's wand?"

Moody simply grinned at the three teenagers.

---XXX---

"Molly dear, please wake up. Come along, be a good sport now."

Mrs. Weasley slowly opened her eyes and tried to focus on the high pitched feminine voice that was seeking her attention. Groaning as she tried to move sore muscles, she discovered that she was tightly bound to a chair and her wand was nowhere to be found. Looking around frantically, she tried to take in as much of the room as possible.

It was a barren room. Grey stone walls surrounded her with faint light coming from a small window that was barred with an ornate, but rusting iron lattice. She was seated in the center of the room on a gaudy pink shag rug. Finally her eyes settled on the tiny woman who was standing calmly in front of her.

The little woman had her arms crossed and she was tapping her foot impatiently. Mrs. Weasley was momentarily startled when she thought she had been captured by a sentient toad. Realizing that this was not a toad but a very ugly looking woman, Mrs. Weasley shot a foul glare at the woman.

"Who are you," Mrs. Weasley demanded. "What are you doing tying me up? Where is my son Percy?"

With each question Mrs. Weasley's voice went up an octave and her face turned the classic Weasley red. She was furious at her situation and had no intention of meekly accepting her circumstances.

"Temper, temper Molly," the ugly little woman said in a girlish voice. Please calm yourself down. We can't have you getting all upset. Everything will become clear in time."

"I don't believe we've been introduced," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "You know who I am, but I don't know who you are."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me. My apologies. You will, of course, be subjected to a Memory Charm, so it is largely irrelevant, but I am Dolores Umbridge, you may have heard my name mentioned before?"

"You foul, filthy hag!" spat Mrs. Weasley. "How dare you do this to me? My husband will track you down and rescue me."

"Your precious husband has already been notified," Umbridge said with a syrupy smile. "Why else do you think we bothered with keeping you alive?"

Mrs. Weasley paled at the implied threat, her normal bluster quickly fading under the clear danger she found herself in. Staring incredulously at the foul little woman who was her captor, Mrs. Weasley started struggling against her bonds.

"We can't have that," purred Umbridge. Raising her wand at Mrs. Weasley, Umbridge calmly stunned her, sending Mrs. Weasley back into unconsciousness.

---XXX---

"Are you awake?"

It was a soft, whispered voice, clearly trying to avoid detection. The urgency in the voice was what broke through the fog in her brain. Slowly gaining awareness, Mrs. Weasley struggled to open her eyes, but discovered that the room was completely dark. There was no light coming in from the room, and the little hag hadn't left any source of light after she stunned Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum, are you awake?" Percy whispered again.

"Percy?" Mrs. Weasley asked incredulously. "Is that you?"

"Yes Mum," Percy whispered back, pain in his voice.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" she demanded with a hiss. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Oh Mum," Percy cried softly. "They put me under the Imperious. It was Fudge and Dolores. I was talking with the Minister-"

"Your FATHER is the Minister you foolish boy," Mrs. Weasley snarled. "Cornelius is nothing but a power-hungry fool and an idiot. How could you let yourself go against your family? Your FAMILY, Percival. Nothing should ever come between you and your family."

"I know Mum, I know. I don't know what happened, everything just got so out of control. I just couldn't pull away."

Soft sobs escaped from Percy's throat as he started to get overwhelmed by everything he had done. Mrs. Weasley sat quietly, allowing her child to come to a full understanding of the depths of his failure as a man, as a son, as a Weasley.

"Percy," Mrs. Weasley said when she finally grew tired of listening to his sobbing. "You have an opportunity to set yourself on the path to redemption. I assume that's why you are here. Unbind me, give me my wand, and help me escape before your father does something foolish to try to rescue me."

"Okay Mum," Percy said, relieved to have someone telling him what to do. He was always best when following orders. He quickly waved his wand, removing the ropes from his mother, freeing her from the chair. With another wave of his wand he created a soft, light glow at the tip of his wand. He didn't want a bright light for fear of attracting unwanted attention.

"I'm sorry Mum," he said then. "But Dolores has your wand. We'll have to leave it if we want to escape."

"Your great-grandmother gave me that wand," Mrs. Weasley said with determination. "I'm not leaving here without it."

"But Mum, we can escape now, and come back for the wand," Percy protested.

"NO!" snapped Mrs. Weasley. "I will not let that foul little hag get away with this, and I will not leave my wand behind. Give me your wand, we're going out through the door."

Percy meekly handed over his wand, fearing to disobey his mother.

With a firm flick of her wrist, Mrs. Weasley thrust the wand at the door and shouted "REDUCTO!" with a mighty roar.

The door shattered into a thousand pieces, this spell having sufficient power to overcome whatever wards had been placed on it. Anger was a powerful tool, Mrs. Weasley often found, especially righteous anger.

Mrs. Weasley, her son's wand in hand, grabbed hold of Percy's collar and dragged him through the doorway.

"Where can I find the little toad?" she demanded. "And that fool Cornelius? Where are they Percy?"

Percy meekly pointed up the looming staircase.

"They are upstairs in the Min- erm, Fudge's study," he said with a weak smile. "They said they were waiting for a guest."

"Well, they'll get me instead," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "Keep close behind me, and be prepared to duck. We're going in firing."

Percy nodded and followed his mother closely as she stomped up the stair well. As she reached the door to the study, she paused to listen before blasting it open.

"Oh you complete fool," she sighed to herself before squaring her shoulders. Percy looked at her in confusion, then ducked behind her as she thrust his wand at the door with another roaring shout "REDUCTO!"

The door to Cornelius Fudge's study simply ceased to exist. There were no splinters, no wreckage, nothing. The fury powering Mrs. Weasley's spell shattered the door into absolute nothingness, but the shockwave of her spell plowed through the room. With a fierce glare at Percy, one that he understood as the 'STAY HERE' look all mothers know how to give, Mrs. Weasley stepped through the space where the door used to be.

---XXX---

Arthur Weasley rather enjoyed traveling by Portkey. He somewhat enjoyed the feeling of being yanked by his stomach. He likened it to the feeling he got the few times he had the opportunity to play Quidditch. The soaring sensation as he was pulled bodily by his navel was quite exhilarating, and normally he would have marveled at the joy of this type of travel. But this was not the time to daydream, he realized.

With a soft thud he landed in an expansive room that looked remarkably like the office he took over when he became Minister of Magic. He thought he felt something bump into him when he landed, but when he turned around he saw nothing. Turning again, he looked around the room. There were gaudy wall hangings and a massive desk, copies of the things that Molly had removed from his new office as being ostentatious or silly. It was not surprising to Arthur when he looked at the huge chair with the seal of the Minister of Magic embroidered in the back, that it was occupied by his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge.

"Arthur, so glad you could join us," Fudge said with an uneasy smile. "Please take a seat, won't you?"

Arthur stared stonily at the pathetic little politician in front of him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Arthur refused to budge.

"Cornelius, I came for my wife," Arthur said in a controlled voice. "Bring her to me now so that we may leave."

"Hem hem," a girlish voice said from the doorway. "Now Arthur, please be civil, the Minister merely wishes to discuss some matters with you and we'll let the two of you about your way."

Umbridge closed the door behind her and walked over to one of the chairs near Fudge's desk. Climbing up into the chair to sit, Arthur saw that she was idly toying with Molly's wand. The rage that was burning inside him sparked hotter than ever.

"Dolores," Arthur said scathingly. "There are few things I care less about than what involuted schemes the two of you have cooked up. You have my wife, so I have no choice to abdicate and name Cornelius as the new Minister. But rest assured the Ministry will not accept this turn of events, nor will Dumbledore."

"How dare you," seethed Umbridge. "Of course the Ministry will accept Cornelius' return to the Ministry, or we'll disband the Ministry and the Wizengamot! We are the ones who should be in power, negotiating with the Dark Lord for a truce. You and your foolish attempt to battle him to victory will surely fail. Accommodation is the only way to survive!"

Arthur shook his head sadly. "I'm sure you believe that to be true, Dolores, which saddens me greatly. But that is none of my concern. If you disband the Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix will absorb them and do what you fail to see is necessary. We will bring the battle to the evil that faces us. No more, no less."

"Arthur my friend, don't you see that is the path of madness?" Cornelius asked. "Surely you don't think you can beat Him? He's too powerful."

"Your years of sucking up to the likes of Lucius have made you weak," Arthur replied with disgust. "So long as we stand against the evil, we can overcome it. With Dumbledore and Harry Potter leading us, we have hope and we can overcome our fears. You would have us cower in the corner and hope that Voldemort would continue to suffer to let us live. That, Cornelius, is the path to madness."

"Fools, you're all fools Arthur," Cornelius responded. "You'll kill us all."

"No Cornelius, your policy of appeasement will be the death of us. But that is of little importance to me. Nothing matters to me beyond the safety of my wife. Bring her to me and we will leave, now."

"Excuse me Arthur," Umbridge interrupted. "But there's the matter of your abdication and naming of Cornelius as your successor. We must see about that before we release your wife."

Clenching his teeth, his hands curling into fists, Arthur stomped over to the desk.

"Where do you want me to sign," he demanded, grabbing a quill from the desk. "Let's finish this."

Just as Cornelius picked up the parchment, a blast of power shot through the room, and Arthur was knocked to his knees. After a moment he recovered his senses and looked in the direction of the blast.

The doorway was gone. It wasn't shattered or destroyed, it had just ceased to exist. Standing in the middle of the hole where the door used to exist stood his darling wife. She was beautiful, as Arthur always thought, and she was radiating a fierce combination of power and rage that Arthur knew so well. It awed him, really, the love he felt for this woman, and the love she returned. Decades of marriage, more years of friendship, and still he was awed on a daily basis that she was his, and he hers.

"Molly," he said with a smile. "I see that my rescue of you may have been unnecessary?"

"Arthur, you bloody idiot, what are you doing here?" Molly asked as she stormed over to him.

"DROP YOUR WAND!" shouted Umbridge, shooting a quick jinx at Molly. With a curt wave of the wand in her hand, Molly deflected the spell and turned to face the ugly little woman.

"Make me," she said with a vicious smile. Her eyes were glinting dangerously as she focused all of her attention on the evil woman who was responsible for so many foul things. Attacks on Harry, Fred and George leaving Hogwarts, and now her own abduction, these crimes condemned this fouls little woman in Molly's eyes. Raising her son's wand, Molly prepared to cast a spell when she faltered. Instead of trying to avoid her spell, Umbridge was smiling at Molly. Or rather she was smiling at a figure behind Molly.

"I'm sorry Molly, truly I am, but I'm going to have to ask you to drop that wand," Cornelius said with his greasy smile.

Molly's face paled as she realized that she had inadvertently placed herself in the middle of her enemies. Desperately searching her memory for some spell or trick that would get her out of this, she realized that she was trapped.

Nodding her head in defeat with an anguished look at her beloved husband, she slowly bent her legs at the knees to slowly place the wand on the floor. Just as she was about to let go, she heard a very familiar voice, one that she was surprised to hear.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry cried, shooting a spell at Cornelius Fudge. With a flash, the spell intersected with Fudge, and his body went completely rigid. With a loud moan, his now petrified body fell forward against his desk. By chance, his body didn't collapse to the floor, but stood leaning against the desk, watching with horrified eyes as Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointed directly at Umbridge.

"Hello, hag," Harry said scornfully. "I thought we already ran you off. What will it take to get rid of you?"

"More than you've got, boy," Umbridge snarled. With a snarl she ducked behind a chair, shooting spells blindly for cover. Unfortunately one of the spells found a target, and Arthur found himself stunned, collapsed on the ground. As he fell his head hit the corner of Fudge's desk and a large gash opened up, pouring out blood onto the floor. Molly raced over to him, quickly reviving him, but cradling his head in her lap as she murmured healing spells over him. Umbridge, grateful for the momentary distraction, shot stunning spells at the two of them, causing both Weasley's to collapse to the ground.

Harry calmly stood his ground, erecting a powerful shield around him, deflecting each of the spells shot in his direction. Umbridge grew more desperate as Harry easily deflected her spells. She started using more powerful spells, but Harry blocked those too, watching with amusement as she grew desperate.

Perhaps Harry should have realized how low Umbridge would sink, but at that moment he was not worried about her depravity. As she shot spell after spell at him, Harry could have lowered his shield and allowed his Mother's protection to end this duel, but he didn't think of it. Even if he had, he probably wouldn't have used it for fear of getting used to it.

Instead Harry concentrated on his shield, and shot a few spells to deflect the more serious spells that Umbridge shot at him. It quickly became apparent why Umbridge spent so much of her time on theory, outside of her desire to keep the students from understanding how to defend themselves or their school. Umbridge was not a very powerful or knowledgeable witch. Her repertoire of spells was very limited, and the power behind them was insufficient to dent Harry's shield.

Sure, over time Harry would tire and his defenses would fail, but that would take much longer than Umbridge had available to her. Harry knew that the Order would arrive soon, and all he had to do was stall for time.

It was the reassured smile that scared Umbridge. She saw that Harry was confident, she saw that he was not worried, and she assumed it meant that Dumbledore was on his way. This can be the only explanation for what happened next.

Shaking in fury as each of her spells was calmly deflected by this stupid, attention-seeking boy, she stood to her full height, snarled, and shouted as she pointed her wand at Harry.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The green beam of light shot out of her wand and shot straight towards Harry's chest.

As the green beam screamed through the air, Harry's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Before he could react, before he could think, he felt a huge thud hit him in the middle of his chest. His body was lifted off the ground in a wave of pain and he was flung back in an agonizing snap, landing heavily on the ground.

The pain was intense. It was as intensely painful as anything he had ever felt before. He felt like his chest was on fire as he tried to gasp for breath. Black lights started spotting his vision, and all he could hear was Dolores Umbridge screaming.

The last thing he realized before the darkness took him was that he felt like there was a crushing weight on top of him and he faded into a black oblivion.

---XXX---

To Be Continued...


	20. Lamentations of a Lackey

A/N: Sorry for the delay, not a happy fall, but things are better now. Next chapter should be much, much sooner.

Chapter 20 – Lamentations of a Lackey

"Harry?" a dry, gasping voice called out, persistently, insistently, to the Boy Who Lived.

"Harry, please, you have to be okay."

It was a voice filled with resignation, dread, and pure and utter terror.

But most of all the voice was filled with a stunning amount of remorse for the actions the owner of that voice had taken, or not taken, for far too long.

---XXX---

"_Percy, my boy, I have a special task for you," Cornelius Fudge said as he walked into the office Percy was working out of. Percy had taken to sleeping at his boss' desk recently, and looked very haggard. He hadn't slept much since the latest news that his boss, Bartemius Crouch, Sr. was dead had been released. "You see, this is quite a problem we have here, and I can't help but feel that you've let me down."_

_Percy paled at the implications laden in the Minister's voice and quickly rose from his seat. "Why Minister, you know I only want to help you as much as possible. And the Ministry of course," Percy said with a rush. Fudge, of course, smiled his greasy smile at the tremors in Percy's voice and started explaining what he wanted Percy to do for him._

_It was a simple request, one that Percy didn't even view as a punishment, really. He was assigned to the Minister's office and his first assignment was to gather every scrap of information about the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Percy dutifully combed through Ministry record, the Daily Prophet, even the Quibbler, and cataloged each and every fact he could gather about the infamous boy wizard._

_He had finished that project within a week due to tireless effort and a genuine fear for his future employment in the Ministry. When he presented it to Fudge, the Minister was overjoyed with the amount of information Percy had compiled. Fudge sat at his desk, carefully reading through Percy's summary of the life of Harry Potter, when he stopped and looked up at Percy with calculating eyes._

"_It says here that Mr. Potter is very close friends with your youngest brother, Ronald. Is that still accurate?" Fudge asked._

"_Well, yes sir. He and Ronald are as thick as thieves," Percy said with a sigh, convinced he was about to be dismissed. "They've been close ever since their first year."_

_Fudge pounced on Percy's tone with a delighted grin._

"_Something tells me you are rather displeased with the friendship between those two? Perhaps Mr. Potter has made it more difficult for you and your brother to remain close?"_

_Percy regretfully nodded his head, easily accepting the Minister's insinuation. In fact, hearing it said out loud, Percy found that he believed it himself._

"_Yes," he said. "Ever since they met Ronald and I have grown distant. He and I were very close growing up. I always felt the need to protect him from our other brothers, the twins. So when he met Harry and they developed their friendship, it was like I wasn't even there anymore. It is very upsetting, you know, to lose touch with family."_

_Fudge readily agreed. Thanking Percy for his report, he casually mentioned that there might be future projects aimed at determining whether Harry Potter was as heroic as the press made him out to be. Fudge asked Percy if he was interested in helping out with this project, and Percy jumped at the chance._

_Over the next several days and early weeks of summer, Percy would meet with eager reporters, looking for a good story, or to curry favor with the Minister's office. At these meetings Percy would mention exaggerated and inaccurate versions of Harry's adventures during his school years, and would cast Harry as an attention-seeking, risk-taking, reckless and arrogant boy._

_The strategy worked. Every other day or so a new story would appear, mocking the Boy Who Lived. Despite the bizarre circumstances at the end of the Triwizard Championship, even Percy started to believe the lies that he was spreading for Fudge._

_Then late one afternoon Dolores Umbridge came striding purposefully up to Percy's desk, just outside of the office of the Minister of Magic. She was grinning feverishly and seemed to radiate glee._

"_I think we need to make sure your friends at the Prophet will be available later this evening," she said with an oily smirk. "It seems that Mister Potter will be in trouble again today."_

"_Is it anything the Minister should be aware of Dolores?" Percy asked in a servile tone._

"_No, my dear, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise for Cornelius. Just get your contacts ready."_

_Percy nodded his head and returned to his desk to write a few, short notes to send out to his friends at the papers. He didn't really know what to say other than that they should expect news about Harry Potter sometime that evening. But that would suffice, Percy was certain._

---XXX---

"Harry, please be okay. Please, Harry."

It was a familiar voice, but not one that Harry had pleasant memories of.

"Harry, we don't have much time," the voice pleaded with him, tears in the voice. "I can't do this alone, and she's going to come after us any second. You have to be okay! We aren't safe without you."

---XXX---

_Albus Dumbledore came crashing in to the office and Percy was truly scared for the first time in his life. The total fury emanating from the powerful wizard made the very air crackle with energy._

"_Pr-Professor Dumbledore, what an unexpected honor," Percy stammered out as he jumped out of his chair, trying to get in the way of his former headmaster before the venerable wizard stormed into the office of the Minister of Magic._

"_Percival," Dumbledore said with cool authority. "I will see him." It was not a request, Percy realized._

"_There will be no interruptions." Dumbledore spoke with such absolute authority. Percy couldn't even move his brain to formulate a response. Percy found himself frozen in stasis, unable to move. Dumbledore hadn't even waved his hands, but Percy was trapped by the ancient wizard's power._

_Not waiting for a response from Percy, the door to the Minister's office flew open, another impossible feat from the mighty Dumbledore. No one was supposed to be able to open those doors without knowing the password. Unspeakable wizards arrived once a week to place layers upon layers of wards upon the office, with only the Minister and his most trusted aides knowing the correct way to disarm the protection. Percy stared as the most powerful wizard in the world quickly strode into the Minister's office, his fury emanating from him in waves. A chair scraped on the floor as Cornelius Fudge jumped up at the intrusion._

"_Cornelius, you disappoint me, yet again," Dumbledore said in a penetrating tone. "You know we have to protect Harry. We aren't safe without him."_

_The Minister started to splutter and Dumbledore waved his hand at the door, slamming it shut and casting an imperturbable charm so they wouldn't be disturbed._

---XXX---

The voice, or the person associated with that voice, started roughly shaking Harry, trying to wake him up, pleading with Harry to wake up.

"Harry, please, you have to wake up. Mum and Dad are still out, and you have to save us from Dolores. Please, Harry, please. I can't do it. I'm too weak. I'm too scared. I'm not the wizard you are. I don't know what to do."

---XXX---

_Percy walked out of the Minister's office early in the morning, stunned by the news that he had just received. His father was terribly wounded the night before, victim of a vicious attack, and had been rushed to St. Mungo's in the middle of the night._

_What was more bizarre than where his father was found was the fact that the life threatening wounds were caused by a vicious snake._

_How the venomous snake got loose in the Ministry was not a question high on the list of problems to solve by the Minister of Magic when one of his subordinates was obviously in cahoots with Dumbledore. But it was important to Percy. Although he had orders to find out where Harry had disappeared to, Percy was also determined to find out what his father had gotten himself involved in._

_Winding his way through the Ministry, Percy couldn't help but overhear the many whispered conversations as Ministry employees speculated openly about his father's fate. Eventually Percy found himself standing outside of the Department of Mysteries, the place where his father had been found._

_The blood had yet to be cleaned up, and Ministry officials were scouring the area, gathering evidence as they tried to determine what could possibly have led to the series of events resulting in the attack on Arthur Weasley. Photos were being taken, and several investigative wizards were waving their wands all over the place, looking for any residual traces of magic and the trail of the snake that somehow had managed to get in to the Ministry._

_One of the investigators approached Percy, recognizing him as one of the Minister's aides. And the son of the victim._

"_Mr. Weasley, we haven't found much to go on," the investigator reported. "Somehow the snake got down here, but we can't figure out how. We're not even sure what KIND of snake it was. As for your father, we're not sure why he was here."_

"_What was he doing here?" Percy asked. "Was he trying to break in to the Department of Mysteries?"_

"_No, we don't think so. He seems to have been seated in this chair, under an Invisibility Cloak."_

"_An Invisibility Cloak?" Percy interrupted. "That's impossible, we don't own one, we could never afford it."_

"_Well, it's right here," the investigator said, picking the cloak up off a pile of evidence they had gathered. "And he was here for quite a while, waiting for something it seems."_

_The Ministry investigator looked at Percy closely, trying to see if there was any reaction from Percy. Percy stared blankly back at the man, completely unsure of what to say._

"_Well, I think I need to talk with my father, try to find out what I can. I'll let you know what I learn. Would you mind if I took this cloak? It would be helpful in getting some information from my father."_

"_Go ahead, we don't really need it for the investigation, but I would appreciate any information that you can gather for us. The Minister was quite insistent that we figure out what happened, and why."_

_Percy nodded his head in acknowledgement, and tried to calmly walk away from the place where his father almost lost his life. He really wished they would clean up the pool of blood. Meandering his way through the Ministry, Percy returned to his office, his mind racing furiously all afternoon and into the evening. Finally, around midnight, he decided on a course of action, loathsome though it may be._

_Flooing from the Ministry to St. Mungo's, Percy slipped on the Invisibility Cloak and made his way to his father's hospital room. Gathering his courage, he quietly slipped in to the room and gasped at the sight._

_Arthur looked absolutely awful, pale as a ghost, gaunt from the terrible poisons and potions that were being used to preserve his life, and he was tossing fitfully in the bed. Percy almost faltered in his task for the evening, but screwed up his resolve, reminding himself that he was doing this for the greater good._

_Picking up his father's water glass, Percy pulled out a vial from his robes and shakily put one drop of a clear, odorless liquid into the glass. He slowly swirled the water in the cup, mixing in the potion. Satisfied, Percy removed the hood of the Invisibility Cloak so that his head was visible and quietly shook his father awake._

"_Dad?" Percy asked. "Dad, are you awake? Dad, we need to talk, please wake up."_

_Arthur groaned and his head lifted up from his pillow. "Percy? What are you doing here?" he said through dry lips._

"_Dad, we need to talk. Would you like some water?"_

_Arthur nodded and took the cup from his son, quickly emptying the contents of the glass. Percy smiled while feeling a pang of guilt flash through his stomach._

"_Dad, are you okay?" Percy asked._

"_Well," Arthur said with a weary look. "I will be son, I will be. But I'm glad that you are here, that means a lot to me." Arthur's voice trailed off as his eyes welled up with tears and his breathing became heavier._

"_Dad, don't, not now," Percy said, his voice thick with emotion. Shaking his head, he steeled himself for what he was about to do. "I know you're not well. But I need to ask you a few questions."_

"_Sure, son, anything you need," Arthur said "I'd do anything for you, or any of my children."_

_Percy clenched his teeth, loathing his actions, but convinced it was worth it._

"_Dad, where'd you get this Invisibility cloak?"_

"_From Alastor Moody. It's one of his. Why do you ask?"_

_The potion Percy had slipped into his father's water was obviously working_

"_Why did you need it?"_

"_I was on guard duty, it was my turn."_

"_Guard duty? Who put you on guard duty? What were you guarding?"_

_Arthur's face screwed up in a contorted manner. "I can't tell you."_

"_Yes you can father, please tell me, it's important."_

"_I'm sorry," Arthur said after another moment. "I can't."_

"_That's impossible," Percy whispered to himself. "That's potent Veritaserum, he shouldn't be able to refuse to answer any questions."_

_While Percy was talking to himself, he didn't see the look of comprehension, and sadness, cross his father's face._

"_Where's Harry," Percy suddenly asked. "Where would Dumbledore have taken Harry?"_

"_Somewhere safe."_

"_Where exactly? The Ministry needs to know where Harry is. Please father, this is important."_

"_Percy, you won't get any more information out of me. Did you think that Albus wouldn't have prepared for this eventuality? Veritaserum won't work. You disappoint me, son. You really disappoint me."_

_Percy's face paled and he suddenly felt very ashamed of himself. Backing slowly away from his father, disappointment etched in his weary face, Percy whimpered in distress._

"_I'm sorry father, I'm not as strong as you are. I don't know what to do."_

_Arthur started to speak, but quickly stopped when he saw his son's shaking hand raise his wand and point at him._

"_Percy, what are you doing?" Arthur hissed._

"_I'm sorry father, very sorry. Please forgive me," Percy moaned. "Though you won't remember why."_

_With a shaky flick of his wrist, Percy waved his wand at his father._

"_Obliviate!"_

_Sobbing, Percy put the hood of his father's borrowed Invisibility Cloak up over his head and fled the room._

---XXX---

As Harry struggled to regain consciousness, in the background he could hear a high-pitched voice screaming in anguish, lamenting a terrible loss. Harry groggily lifted up his head and grimaced as pain shot throughout his body.

He recognized the voice that had been speaking to him, and turned to the direction of that voice.

"Percy?" he croaked, momentarily confused as he shook away the pain in his head. "Wh-what happened?"

"Oh Harry," Percy said, tears welling in his eyes. "Dolores, she, well, she tried to kill you. She shot the killing curse at you, but I managed to knock you out of the way, I guess. But the spell..." Percy's voice faltered at that point.

"What happened Percy?" Harry asked, strength returning to his voice, but he noticed that it was harder than normal to breathe and pain was shooting through his chest.

"Her spell hit the Minister," Percy said with a groan. "He's dead, Harry. Dolores, she, well, she killed Cornelius Fudge."

With that statement Harry sat bolt upright in amazement, pain flaring across his face as his ribs protested the quick movement. Miraculously his glasses were still on his face, but his vision was still slightly blurred from when he was tackled to the floor.

"Where is she Percy?" Harry asked as he tried to blink away the stars in his eyes.

"She's over there," Percy said, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and pointing him in the right direction. Harry stood up shakily, grabbing hold of the desk and steadying himself as he looked across the room.

Dolores Umbridge was kneeling next to the lifeless body of Cornelius Fudge. She was wailing and moaning in anguish, tears pouring out of her eyes as her pudgy fists flailed in the air. Harry stood watching her, his hand on his wand as he stepped towards her.

Glancing over at the Weasley's, Harry quickly shot two spells at them, waking them up. He saw their slight movements as they slowly started to shake off the effects of the stunner, and he returned his thoughts and attention to Umbridge. Stepping closer to her, he accidentally brushed up against the desk, knocking a pile of parchments to the floor.

"YOU!" she shrieked at him, the noise of his movement drawing her attention. "This is your fault!"

Umbridge quickly scrambled to her feet, pointing her wand at Harry.

"You killed him, it's all your fault!" she screeched.

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked incredulously. "YOU killed him, you cast the Killing Curse, an Unforgivable. I don't know what happened, but YOU were trying to kill ME."

"You ungrateful wretch," snapped Umbridge, looking at Percy. "Everything we've given you, all the power, the responsibility, and you did this, to save HIM! You had to go and knock him out of the way and save precious Potter."

Weaving her wand in a complex pattern, she started to take aim at Percy when he shot up from the floor and charged at her. Distracted by his motion, Umbridge missed when she shot her spell and hit a chair which started to melt.

"Harry," Percy shouted as he ran towards Umbridge. "Tell my parents that I'm sorry. Please."

With those words out of his mouth, Percy crashed into Umbridge, knocking her backwards. The impact of his blow caused her wand to fly out of her hand, clinking on the floor, as the two of them stumbled backwards, away from the desk.

As Umbridge struggled against Percy's body, the two of them tumbled back into the large window behind Fudge's desk. It shattered against the impact of the two bodies crashing into it, and their momentum dragged them through the window frame. Harry rushed forward, wand aimed to try to save them, and a spell on his lips. But as he watched the two bodies tumble down the building, he heard a rushing sound and Percy and Umbridge disappeared before they hit ground, one of them having somehow activated a Portkey that whisked them away. But Harry hadn't the faintest idea where they could have gone.

Sighing and shaking his head, still trying to eliminate the stars in his eyes, Harry felt another twinge of pain from his ribs. From experience he realized that he had probably fractured several of them. He just hoped none were completely broken. Since he wasn't coughing up blood yet, he thought he'd be okay for a little while.

Turning his attention to the needs of others, he walked over to the Weasleys.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked with another cough as he helped them to their feet. "Mr. Weasley? Are you two okay?"

The two of them looked at Harry with dismay. They both shook their heads as they slowly stood up, grasping the desk for support. Looking around the office, they both realized that Percy and Umbridge were gone.

"Harry, what happened?" asked Mr. Weasley. "Where is Percy?"

"Where is my son," demanded Mrs. Weasley in frantic tones.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied with a sigh. "He, well, he saved my life, twice I guess. Umbridge, she tried to kill me, she used the Killing Curse. But Percy, he knocked me out of the way, and, somehow it hit Fudge instead."

"You mean Cornelius is dead?" Mr. Weasley asked incredulously. He followed Harry's head as the young wizard turned to look at the lifeless form of the former Minister of Magic. "Sweet Merlin," he breathed.

"But where is Percy," Mrs. Weasley asked again, more frantically. "Where's my son?"

"He pushed Umbridge away, she was going to try and kill us, and Percy jumped her. They struggled and fell through the window. Somehow one of them activated a Portkey before they hit the ground. I don't know who did it, or where they went. I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, her hands clenched together, wringing her fingers in anxiety. Looking out the window, staring off to the distance, she stepped closer to the hole in the window where her son had fallen through. As she stepped closer, her foot slipped and she almost lost her balance. Looking down, she saw a wand. It was short and stubby, and instinctively Mrs. Weasley knew who it belonged to. Picking the wand up with a snarl, she firmly grasped it on both hands and quickly brought it crashing down over her knee.

With a bright spark, the wand broke neatly in two and Mrs. Weasley dropped the two wand halves to the floor, wiping her hands on her robes as she stepped away from the window.

"Now that's one thing taken care of," Mrs. Weasley said in a determined voice. "Let's figure out where that foul toad is. And Arthur?"

"Yes dear?" Mr. Weasley replied.

"Minister's prerogative or not, when we find her, she's mine. Understand?"

Despite the mildness of her voice, Harry was amused to see that Mr. Weasley paled slightly and his eyes grew wide.

"Yes dear," he agreed with a nod of his head.

Mrs. Weasley threw her husband a grim smile and marched out of the room.

"I love that woman, Harry. I really do. But sometimes," he sighed. "Sometimes, she scares me."

Mr. Weasley chuckled at himself and, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, escorted Harry out of the office.

---XXX---

"Thank you again for coming and talking with me," Penelope said. "Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, it means so much to me that you came to help. I just hope that Percy comes home soon so we can talk."

Professor Flitwick levitated himself up in the air and placed a warm, fatherly kiss on Penelope's cheek.

"Patience my dear. I am pleased to have been able to help, know that you can always call on me, at any time."

"Myself as well," Professor McGonagall said with a kind smile. Despite the grim circumstances Penelope smiled to herself at the unfamiliar sight on the stern woman's face. "If you need further assistance to persuade young Mr. Weasley, please Floo either of us dear."

"I will," Penelope agreed as she opened up the front door for her guests. "I will indeed. Thank you again."

As Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick stepped out into the street, they paused to contemplate the distressing news that Penelope had told them.

"I will have to inform Albus of this right away," McGonagall sighed. "I don't believe any of us knew the lengths to which Mr. Weasley was willing to go to maintain his position. I knew the depths that Fudge would sink to, but I never would have imagined Percy would follow suit."

"I'm sorry Minerva," Flitwick said. "I know this is distressing to you. If you prefer, I will inform Albus."

Nodding her head, McGonagall quietly thanked her colleague. With a tiny pop the charms master disappeared, and she was left alone to her thoughts. Standing in the middle of the street, she was quickly brought out of her reverie by the sounds of horrified screams emanating from the house she had just vacated. Then a thunderous explosion occurred inside. Then silence.

Something was terribly wrong in the house that Penelope Clearwater shared with Percy Weasley.


	21. Family Matters

Chapter 21 – Family Matters

With a crash Percy and Umbridge fell to the floor in the middle of Percy's bedroom. During their struggle as they fell out of the window at the former Minister's home, Percy had managed to reach into his robes and pull out his emergency portkey. Fudge had insisted that Percy, like most of Fudge's personal staff, have a portkey to bring them to safety, and Percy's was triggered to bring him to the home he shared with Penelope. That Umbridge had not thought of the same escape was a blessing for Percy.

As they crashed to a stop, Percy and Umbridge continued to struggle. Umbridge was kicking and screaming at him in an incoherent rage, scrambling for leverage so she could release her fury on him. Fending off several key blows to his face, and more private areas, Percy made yet another mistake.

He dropped his wand.

Umbridge heard the tell tale click of the wood hitting the floor and dove for the loose wand. Managing to clutch it in her grubby hands first, she pointed the wand at Percy and shouted a quick succession of spells at him, blasting Percy against the wall and immobilizing him. With as much dignity as she could muster, the wretched little woman picked herself up off the floor, brushed her robes with her pudgy little hands, and smiled a foul smile at Percy who stared at her in horror.

"Well Percival," she sneered in her annoying girlish voice. "Since you insisted on aiding that awful little Potter, perhaps you'd prefer to take his place in my revenge?"

"What do you mean Dolores?" Percy asked with dread.

"**_CRUCIO!"_** she snapped, a bright beam of light shooting out of the wand in her hand, hitting Percy squarely in the chest.

Percy's head snapped back as his body writhed in agony. Every cell in his body throbbed with pain as the dreadful curse coursed through his body. His hair pulled at his scalp, as if it was trying to pull away to avoid the pain. His fingernails felt like they were curling into his fingers in agony. His eyes started watering as the soft tissue felt like it was melting. Every bone felt brittle and as if it was being twisted, pulled, wrenched, and pounded at the same time. His blood burned throughout his body, searing through his veins.

Percy screamed in absolute agony as all of the hate, all of the anger, all of the frustration that Umbridge felt poured through the curse into his body. The foul little toad stared intently at Percy, the wand in her hand pointed at him as she trained the curse on his twitching body. Umbridge was so focused on exacting this measure of revenge that she didn't notice when the door to the room opened.

"**_IMPEDIMENTIA!"_**

The blast was enormous as Umbridge crashed against the wall. Her concentration broken, the curse she had aimed at Percy was ended and she coughed as she picked herself up from the ground.

The pain subsided, the intense agony was gone, and Percy was left with the terrible residual sensations of the dreaded curse. Barely able to lift his head, he rolled his neck to see what had caused his torment to end. He would remember the sight for the rest of his life.

His beloved was there. The only thing that remained in his life to make it worthwhile was there. The core of his being, the center of his existence, his Penelope, she was there. Despite the problems he had caused for her, the mistreatment, the blind arrogance, the tremendous neglect, despite all that, the love of his life stood in the doorway, eyes blazing with righteous fury, wand held firmly in her hand, and a look of loathing aimed at the foul toad who had abused him for too long.

"Leave Percy alone, you hag," Penelope said in a calm voice laced with fury. "Drop the wand. Now!"

It was the most beautiful sight Percy had ever seen in his life. This beautiful witch, this essence of womanhood, stared, unafraid, at the horrible creature determined to kill him, and Penelope was going to fight for his life. He didn't deserve her. Percy knew this to be true. He didn't deserve that kind of love, didn't deserve that kind of devotion, he was both embarrassed by her love, and thrilled by it at the same time. Summoning his courage, bracing his strength, he shot her a look filled with love and tried to pull himself to his feet.

"Foolish girl," Umbridge said with a sneer. "Do you really think you can compete with me?"

With a flick of the wand she held, Umbridge cast three quick charms at Penelope, knocking her to the floor and blasting her wand out of her hand. With a smug smile, Umbridge walked over to pick up her second captured wand. As she bent over she gasped and took a startled step backwards, fear etched across her face.

"I think I might be able to give you some competition, Dolores," Professor McGonagall said with cold disdain as she walked into the room.

"Minerva," Umbridge said with a quaver in her voice. She quickly tried to cover it with a sneer. "I see you're doing well. All recovered from the exams?"

"Let the children go, Dolores," McGonagall said coldly. "Perhaps I'll show you more mercy than you deserve if you do so."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes, quickly glancing around the room. With a smirk she twisted her wrist and muttered a soft spell. Eyes opening wide in shock, she stared in horror at McGonagall.

"Oh yes Dolores, very predictable," McGonagall said with a feral grin. "You've noticed the anti-apparition jinx. I simply must thank Albus for showing me that. Were you aware that only a handful of wizards know that spell? And I daresay a small number of wizards do as well, lucky for me. Now, are you prepared to hand over those wands?"

Umbridge swore at McGonagall and plunged her hand into her robes, puling out a small comb. "Home," she commanded. Once again her eyes widened in shock as the expected magic did not occur.

"Ridiculous," McGonagall said, rolling her eyes. "You are simply making a fool of yourself Dolores. An anti-apparition jinx is almost pointless unless one also is capable of casting a ward preventing the use of a Portkey. Of course a remotely competent professor of Defense against the Dark Arts would have known that. Oh, but then you weren't competent, now were you?"

Umbridge was shaking with fury at this point, her face red with rage. Tucking one of the spare wands inside her robes, she cast a quick series of spells at McGonagall, trying to cease the woman's insufferable smugness. McGonagall neatly deflected all of the spells, bouncing several back at Umbridge, while adding a few tricks of her own.

Umbridge dove for cover and shot a spell in Percy's direction, causing him to go limp, again. With another quick flick of Percy's wand, Umbridge animated Percy's body and forced him to stand in front of her as she shot a few more curses in McGonagall's direction. Recognizing the danger to Percy, McGonagall deflected the spells instead of bouncing them back at Umbridge for fear of hitting Percy. Using the barest of her skills at transfiguration, she turned several tiny portions of the back wall into highly reflective mirrors. Calculating the correct angles, she shot a few spells at Umbridge, missing her completely, but zooming directly toward the mirrored spot in the wall.

"Missed me, old girl," Umbridge said sweetly with a smirk. "I guess your age is getting to you."

"Not at all Dolores," McGonagall said, pursing her lips in a grim smile. "Not yet, at least."

At that instant the spells returned from the back wall of the room and intersected with Umbridge. For several moments she started glowing brilliant colors as each spell hit the foul woman - a leg locker, to keep her in place, a silencer, to keep her quiet, and finally a stunner, to knock her out. As Umbridge fell to the ground, the last thing she heard was the self-satisfied chuckle of Minerva McGonagall.

---XXX---

"Harry, please, just drink the bloody potion, would you?" Tonks demanded in exasperation. "You've broken six ribs, on both sides of your body, mind you. I'm not even sure how you're managing to stay awake with the pain you must be feeling."

"I'm fine," Harry replied stubbornly. "I can't just sit here Tonks, I have to help the Weasley's find Percy."

"No you don't, you idiot," she replied just as stubbornly. "Arthur and Molly dropped you off here to get healed, and heal you bloody well will do. Unless you want me to get Remus' opinion of the matter?"

"That's not fair," Harry protested.

"What?" Tonks asked. "I think it's a good idea. I'll go to St. Mungo's, wake Remus up, disrupt the last stages of his healing process, and get him to weigh in. I'm sure he'd allow you to ignore the fact that you've battled a legion of Dementors, dueled with Deatheaters, fought off Umbridge, and in the process managed to break several bones and use more magic in a day than most wizards use in a year. Yeah, let's both go and tell him this story and see if he thinks you should now gallivant around the country on a wild goose chase, unsure of where to go or where to even start. C'mon Harry. I want to see what he says."

"Fine, you win," Harry muttered darkly. "But you know that's not fair."

"I don't have to be fair. I just need to make you drink these potions so your ribs heal. And whatever else you've managed to sprain, fracture, or wound."

Tonks handed the bubbling potions to Harry and, with a grimace, he quickly downed them, making a terrible face as their contents gurgled in his stomach. After a few moments he felt a warm sensation spreading throughout his body, and the pain in his ribs subsided tremendously. His breathing grew less labored, and he felt slightly better.

"Now, get up to your room where Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are waiting breathlessly for the information that I'm sure you'll tell them. Moody brought them back from the Ministry after you and Arthur disappeared, and I'm sure they are anxious for some news. You'll be ready to fall asleep in about a half hour, once those potions work their way through."

"What are you going to do?"

"What Aurors always do, find a way to save the day," Tonks said with a smirk. "Get some rest and we'll let you know what we find out in the morning."

Harry shook his head at Tonks' statement, but recognized his need to rest and recover. Marching up the stairs, he decided to learn from past mistakes and take some good advice for once.

Knocking on the door to announce his presence, he informed his friends that he was wounded so they wouldn't rush him and tackle him with hugs. Upon opening the door he realized that was a rather smart idea because all three of them made as if to jump off the beds and come running at him when they all gasped at the condition he was in. They stopped short of crushing him with hugs when they saw how exhausted he looked.

"Harry! All right mate?" Ron asked with concern etched in his face.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a tired grin. "I guess so. I mean, not really, but I will be. It's been a long day."

Sitting gingerly down on his bed, Harry got straight to the point and quickly informed his friends about the events with Fudge and Umbridge.

"You mean he's actually dead?" the three friends gasped at one point in the story, almost in unison.

Quirking his eyebrows up at them wickedly, Harry nodded. "Yeah, he kind of got what he deserved, don't you think?"

A small grin appeared on Ginny's face while Ron whooped with laughter. Only Hermione looked grim at the news, but Harry noticed that even she didn't say a word in defense of the former Minister. Continuing on with his story, Harry finished with the image of Umbridge and Percy disappearing in the flash of a portkey.

"Your Mum and Dad are looking for them now, I guess, as are most of the rest of the Order and as many Aurors as your father could spare from the Ministry. They'll find him, I'm sure."

"Yeah, and when they do, Mum's going to kill Percy," Ginny said with a forced attempt at humor. Affecting her mother's voice, Ginny started lecturing her brother in absentia. "Percival, how dare you throw yourself in front of a curse like that. And look what you've done, you've broken dear Harry's ribs. Not that it wasn't heroic what you did, but you must think before you do these things. Now give me a hug you poor dear, I'll fix up some sandwiches before dinner. Honestly, what does Penelope feed you, you're nothing but skin and bones."

The teenagers all roared with laughter at Ginny's astute impersonation in tone and words of Mrs. Weasley, and forgot for the moment their worries for Percy and the Weasley family as a whole. As Harry tried to stifle a yawn, Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks and nodded at each other.

"Well, perhaps we should head to bed," Hermione said, getting up from where she was sitting next to Ron. "Good night Harry. Good night Ron," she said as she leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush.

The two girls left the room, closing the door behind them. Harry carefully sat down on his bed, contemplating the prospect of changing clothes, and deciding against it. As he started to pull the covers back, he was interrupted by Ron.

"Harry," he asked. "Do you think Percy will be okay?"

That Ron would even ask such a question stunned Harry. Not that Ron was concerned about his brother of course. Harry knew Ron was too compassionate to not worry about Percy, but Harry was stunned that Ron would admit such a worry, even to Harry. Ever since that stupid letter from Percy came, advising Ron to stay away from Harry and put his trust in Umbridge, Ron couldn't even be in the same room when someone mentioned Percy's name. And when Mrs. Weasley would start to cry over the status of the family's relationship with Percy, Ron would look like he was ready to kill someone. But he would never talk about it, Ron would just mutter under his breath and pound his fists together as his ears turned scarlet. So Harry was understandably surprised when Ron asked about his brother.

"Yeah Ron, I think he's going to be okay," Harry replied. "They'll find him."

---XXX---

The next morning Harry woke up early, despite his exhaustion from the day before. The potions he had taken the night before had worked, and all of his wounds and broken bones were fully healed.

As he climbed out of his bed, trying not to disturb Ron, he was surprised to see that his best friend was already awake.

"Morning," Harry said with a yawn. "What are you doing up?"

"Morning Harry," Ron replied. "I didn't sleep well. Worried about Percy."

"Well," Harry said with a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry Ron, but we'll find him somehow. I'm sure of it."

The two boys quickly changed and headed for the kitchen, their stomachs rumbling. When they got there, Ron was stunned to find his father rummaging around in the pantry while Ginny and Hermione were trying to offer their assistance.

"Dad?" Ron asked. "Where's Mum?"

"She's having a bit of a lie in this morning, son. Yesterday was pretty tough for her, and she's not ready to face the day quite yet," Arthur replied. "So I'm making breakfast."

Harry and Ron exchanged grimaces at the news. Mr. Weasley's cooking record was spotty at best, and he had a slight tendency to mix too many ingredients together in his eggs, claiming that the Muggles liked lots of interesting things in their 'omlits' or 'crumbled eggs' and Harry couldn't bring himself to dampen Mr. Weasley's enthusiasm. Normally they would all just eat around the more bizarre ingredients.

Just as Mr. Weasley was about to start cooking, they were interrupted by a flash of green fire and Professor McGonagall stepped out of the fireplace. Harry was surprised when he saw her glance around the room and her face twisted in consternation at seeing Mr. Weasley.

"Good morning Minerva," he said heartily. "Can I offer you some breakfast, I'm about to make some for the boys and Molly."

"Thank you, no," replied Professor McGonagall. "I have news for you, and Molly, of course. Perhaps you could go get her Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded his head and stood to dash out of the room, but was saved from that chore when Mrs. Weasley entered at that precise moment.

"What news, Minerva?" Mrs. Weasley asked hastily. "Is it about Percy?" she asked hopefully.

Professor McGonagall nodded in affirmation. "He's at Hogwarts. Poppy is tending to his wounds, and Penelope's, of course."

"Let's go," Mrs. Weasley said abruptly to her husband. Mr. Weasley nodded his head, but paused when Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked at him speculatively.

"Well," she said with hesitation. "Actually, maybe it would be best if you didn't join us, _Minister_," she said, emphasizing Arthur's title. "I've used rather, shall we say, _unorthodox_ measures to restrain Dolores. She's at Hogwarts as well."

"I see," Arthur said with an absolutely straight face. "Yes, well, I do have to nip off to the Ministry I guess. What with carrying out Lucius' sentence this afternoon and all the other things the Minister has to do. You'll all be able to join me for that event, Molly? I would really appreciate it if you could join me, along with Harry and the rest of the children. If Percy's okay, that is."

Molly Weasley simply nodded at her husband, unsure of her own voice, so relieved that Percy had been recovered and seemed to be okay. As she started to address Professor McGonagall she was interrupted by her husband's shout of pure joy from the hallway.

No one in the kitchen was able to restrain their laughter.

---XXX---

Percy was overwhelmed by his mother's outpouring of affection. She was hugging him, scolding him, praising him, and crying tears of joy that he was okay, all at the same time. As soon as she had walked through the door to the infirmary at Hogwarts, she had started fussing over him, unable to restrain her emotions. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Professor McGonagall stood silently off to the side as Molly was reunited with her son.

After several minutes of her fussing, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, trying to get Molly's attention.

"Mum," Percy said patiently. "Mum, please, I'm going to be fine, seriously."

"I know dear," she said, catching her breath and wiping away the last tears. "What you did yesterday was very brave, very foolish, but very brave."

"Mum," he protested. "It was my fault. If I hadn't been so weak, so blinded by power, frustration, or ambition, none of that would have happened. When I was finally free, I just did what I needed to do, what I _had_ to do."

"Of course you did, Percy," Harry said, stepping up to the bed and placing a comforting hand on Percy's leg. "You're a Weasley."

Percy's eyes welled up at Harry's praise and he tried to shake his head, as if to reject Harry's kindness. Turning his head to wipe away his tears, he was startled when he saw his brother and sister, not realizing that they had entered the room as well. Speechless, he stared at them, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words. Ginny, seeing his distress, ran to his side and enveloped him in a hug, tears flowing freely as she clutched him close to her.

"Gin?" Percy asked in wonder. "I'm so glad you're here, it means so much to me. I've been so stupid."

"Yeah, you have," Ron said hoarsely, his eyes glistening. "But now you can make it right. You can make it right with all of us. You've started with Harry, and that's enough for now."

Ginny reached out a hand, imploring Ron to cross the room and join them. Ron wiped his hands across his face, and stiffly walked over after getting a slight nudge from Hermione. Reaching out to grab Ginny's hand, he stumbled and fell into the bed, falling into an embrace with his brother and sister.

"Ron," Percy said haltingly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I'd do anything to make it up to you."

"You will Perce," Ron said quietly. "You will. But we're family. That will always come first. Family forgives, we might not forget, but we forgive."

"I know that, now," Percy said softly. "And I'm sorry."

---XXX---

The emotional reunion lasted another hour until Percy's strength started to wane. Madam Pomfrey chased them out with the guarantee that Mrs. Weasley could return in the evening and again the following day. With a last hug for her son, and an admonition to Penelope to rest, Mrs. Weasley and the others left Hogwarts and headed to the Ministry.

"I don't understand why you want to be there for Malfoy's punishment,"  
Hermione said to Harry as they walked to Hogsmeade. "After everything that's happened the past few days, why don't you just take a break from it all and let's just go home to Headquarters."

"I need to be there," Harry said stubbornly. "I'm the one who proposed the sentence, and I want to see him get what he deserves. Plus, Mr. Weasley agrees that it would be good, symbolically, for me to be there. You know, the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing and everything."

Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth to push her argument, but stopped abruptly when Ron grabbed her hand and squeezed firmly. She looked at her boyfriend and the intensity in his eyes convinced her to drop the matter, reluctantly.

Not completely oblivious, Harry threw Ron a quick look of thanks. Once they reached the wards protecting the school, Mrs. Weasley held up her wand, summoning the Knight Bus, which appeared very quickly. They all boarded and the bus jumped away, heading rapidly towards the Ministry.

Surprisingly, there were no other stops and they arrived at the Ministry in plenty of time to grab a bite to eat for lunch before the scheduled punishment of Lucius Malfoy.

---XXX---

"Malfoy, your wife and son are here," the Auror said scathingly. "Here to see you before you get turned into a Muggle. They have ten minutes before you are dragged out of here for your sentencing."

Lucius Malfoy somehow managed to maintain his aura of superiority, even in a jail cell. Looking down his nose at the guard through the bars on the window, Malfoy simply sneered. "About time," he said. "Let them in."

"Sod off Malfoy, you damn Deatheater. You'll be getting yours today, and rightfully so," the Auror said with a cold laugh. "Now back up."

Grudgingly, Malfoy stepped away from the door to allow his wife and child into his cell. Once the door opened, Draco regally pushed his way past the Auror and Narcissa sullenly followed. Demanding some water as the Auror slammed the door shut, Draco embraced his father.

"Father," he said. "It is good to see you. How are you?"

"Fine," Lucius said impatiently. "What are the two of you doing here? I thought I forbid you to be here."

"Lucius, you are no longer in a position to be quite so demanding," Narcissa said angrily. "You have no idea what price we are paying for being here."

"What do you mean?" he asked angrily.

"Patience father," Draco said smoothly with an arch look at the Auror. "Patience. Auror?" Draco commanded. "My father asked for some water, my mother needs some as well."

Grumbling, the Auror opened the door and gave Draco two cups of water. With a sneer, Draco took them and handed a cup to each of his parents.

"My mother would like a few moments alone with my father," he said contemptuously. "I will wait outside with you."

Draco paced in the hallway, making sure to keep his back to the Auror. As the clock on the desk chimed the hour, Draco snorted and turned to the Auror. Gesturing for him to open the door, the Auror knocked loudly and opened the door. The Auror smirked as the Malfoy couple hastily completed the process of fastening their clothing.

"A last hurrah?" he said with a low chuckle. "Well, time is up. The Minister will be here shortly to escort you to the chamber."

"You mean that miserable excuse for a wizard is coming here?" Draco asked.

"I've already explained to your father that he and I have very different ideas about what constitutes a decent wizard, young Mr. Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said as he entered the cell of Lucius Malfoy. "I would hope that your father's sentencing and punishment might serve as a warning for any who would think otherwise."

Draco glared at the Minister with the utmost of loathing, and Mr. Weasley felt certain that he fully understood his youngest son's loathing for the foul Malfoy brat. Shaking his head in dismay that such a young man could be so beyond hope, Mr. Weasley gestured to his Auror guards and they directed Lucius to turn around. Securing his hands behind him and putting his ankles in shackles, they escorted him out of the cell.

"Mother, you should return to the Manor," Draco said. "I am going to stay with Father, but you shouldn't be put through this farce. I will see you at home."

Narcissa nodded and swept regally from the room and Draco marched out after his father. Arthur stood in the dark cell for a few moments, not entirely sure why, but a dreadful nagging feeling was pulling at the back of his mind. Shaking it off, he followed the prisoner to the courtroom, preparing himself to carry out the terrible sentence.

When they arrived at the foyer to the courtroom, Arthur ordered the guards to keep the prisoner there until he was summoned. Walking into the courtroom, Arthur was not surprised by the size of the crowd. The room was filled to capacity, wizards and witches of all types were there. Purebloods, half-bloods, muggle-borns, even some squibs were present to see the downfall of the Dark Lord's servant. Even a contingent of goblins, several house-elves, and a centaur were there, which did cause some surprise for Arthur, but he should have realized that Dumbledore would have reached out to all of the victims of Lucius Malfoy's evil deeds over the years.

A smile crept across the Minister's face as he saw that his own family was there. His darling Molly was holding court over their children, biological and adopted. Greatly relieved by the firecall he had just received from Minerva McGonagall about Percy's condition, Arthur felt he could see years of tension lifted off his wife's shoulders. Not that everything between them and their son was healed, but the foundation for reconciliation was laid, and that was all Arthur could ask for.

Sitting next to Molly was his youngest, his precious Ginny. Arthur felt a fierce protectiveness wash over him as he gazed upon his little girl. _Woman_ he thought to himself ruefully, not for the first time that summer. _She is a spectacularly amazing young woman, and she has a bright future ahead of her, thanks to Harry_.

Any compassion Arthur might have had for Lucius Malfoy was immediately dismissed as Arthur recalled the horror he and Molly felt when they were told the full tale of Ginny's first year. That Lucius had slipped the diary into Ginny's cauldron was beyond a doubt, and in Arthur's mind that alone justified the terrible punishment that Lucius was going to receive.

"Minister, are you ready?" Amelia Bones asked, snapping Arthur out of his reverie. Nodding his head, Amelia snapped her fingers and an Auror quieted the room.

"Bring out the prisoner," Arthur said. Two Aurors escorted Lucius Malfoy out into the center of the room. Roughly positioning him over the center of an elaborate diagram drawn into the floor, they secured the shackles to iron rings in the floor. Lucius simply stood there, looking surprisingly defeated, and Arthur was stunned to see that the Deatheater had tears in his eyes. The nagging feeling in the back of Arthur's head started pounding, but he couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong.

"Lucius Malfoy," the Minister of Magic said with an amplified voice. "You have been charged with murder, with the use of the Unforgiveables, with attempted murder, and numerous other crimes. You are sentenced to have your magic removed, to turn you into that which you despise most of all, a Muggle. Do you have anything to say before the spell is activated?"

Lucius simply shook his head, unwilling to speak. Again that nagging feeling flared up in Arthur's mind. Arthur had assumed Lucius would have made an imperious statement of some form, silence was never that man's mode of operation. Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur simply motioned to the wizards and witches from the Department of Mysteries.

Thirteen of them marched forward in an asymmetrical pattern. They formed a circle around Malfoy, stopping at places marked on the diagram. Lifting their wands above their heads in an elaborate pattern, a soft orange glow started emanating from the stone floor. A shimmering sphere enveloped Malfoy, forcing his body to a rigid standing position in the center of the sphere.

Arthur, knowing the full ritual after having been briefed, looked around the courtroom. He was surprised by two sights. Draco Malfoy, instead of looking at his father, instead of showing any emotion, seemed almost bored. Staring straight ahead, neither reacting to the sights or sounds of the spell, the young wizard could have been staring at a wall for the amount of emotion he had on his face.

The second sight was that of Harry Potter. This strong yet humble young man was staring with implacable eyes at Draco Malfoy. Harry wasn't paying attention to the ritual and he wasn't conversing with his friends. He was staring at his obvious school rival with a determined look that screamed out to Arthur that Harry too felt that something was odd in the courtroom, but couldn't figure it out either.

The chanting of the spell grew louder, and the orange light grew brighter, shifting to a deep purple, infusing the room with dark overtones of purple light. Then the witches took a step away from the circle in exact symmetry. Turning to their right, each witch started marching around the circle, twisting their wands in an even more elaborate pattern as they circled around and around.

A bright white light suddenly flashed through the circle, eliminating the purple light and the witches stopped in place. The white light gradually turned into a pillar of light, centered on the form of Lucius Malfoy. The light grew brighter and brighter. The witches turned around in unison and started circling again in a counterclockwise pattern, though much faster this time.

The witches were almost running now, their wands waving feverishly about as the wizards started stepping through the gaps between the witches in an amazing display of synchronization. Back and forth the wizards stepped, in between the witches as they whirled around the circle, all of them chanting the same complex spell. Finally the pattern on the floor flared bright green, temporarily blinding everyone in the courtroom. A scream erupted, piercing throughout the room, chilling everyone who heard it to the bone. I was a scream of terrible loss, of absolute despair. But oddly, it was not the scream of a man, it was the scream of a woman.

As Arthur blinked his eyes to recover his sight, he looked to the center of the circle where Lucius had been chained. As his vision cleared, he realized that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Standing in the center of that circle, in shackles, and wearing the robes of Lucius Malfoy was not Lucius Malfoy.

It was his wife, Narcissa.

As the rest of the audience came to the same realization that Arthur did, the courtroom exploded in noise and all Arthur could do was look at the faces of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Both were wearing the same neutral expression and neither seemed surprised.

"Aurors," barked the Minister of Magic. "Seize that woman, and Draco Malfoy as well," he added, pointing to the young blond teenager. "Bring them to my office after you have secured them, and confiscated their wands. I also want anti-apparition and anti-portkey jinxes on them at all times."

Arthur Weasley was livid. He didn't know how Malfoy had managed to escape, but he did, right under the nose of the Ministry. Fleetingly Arthur realized this would be a public relations disaster for the Ministry, but his focus was on figuring out how Malfoy had escaped, and what that meant for the fight against Voldemort. Dealing with the media would have to wait.

Turning to the place where his family was seated, he locked eyes with his wife. "Molly, please get Dumbledore for me," he asked the love of his life. "I'll need his help today. And could you find someone to see if Remus could leave the bloody hospital yet? He's already told me he feels ready to leave, but the blasted Healers won't let him out. I don't care what you have to tell them, but get him to my office now."

Thanking her with his eyes as Molly nodded in acceptance of her mission he swept from the room, followed by his Auror bodyguards. Molly gathered her group around her, eyes somber, and her hands clenched together as she worried about her husband.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, interrupting her thoughts. "I think Professor Dumbledore is at Hogwarts, with Snape. Dumbledore was going to get to the bottom of that attack before term starts."

"Well then," she said. "I'll just floo Albus and ask him to join us."

When Dumbledore didn't respond to the firecall, Molly decided that the most expedient step was for her to go to the castle herself. Not surprisingly, Harry volunteered to join her, but she refused to allow the rest of the teenagers join them.

"We don't need an entourage everywhere we go," she insisted. "And Harry probably wants to hear Professor Snape's apology himself."

"Apology?" Ron and Harry sputtered simultaneously.

"Not bloody likely," Ron muttered to Harry as Harry nodded his head in agreement.

"I'm sure Severus has a reasonable explanation, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "Dumbledore trusts him so we should give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for now."

Grumbling under their breath, the two boys nodded their heads reluctantly, neither willing to continue a confrontation with the tempestuous and emotional woman over their doubts about Snape. Harry and Mrs. Weasley agreed that they would head to Hogwarts, while the others would go to St. Mungo's with a pair of Auror bodyguards to free Remus.

"It's time for me to have a chat with Snape," Harry said to his friends as they split up.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22 – Summer Days

Harry and Mrs. Weasley arrived in Hogsmeade and made their way to the castle, both quiet as they worried about the escape of Lucius Malfoy and what Arthur Weasley was going to do about it. When they arrived at the school, Mr. Filch greeted them at the door.

"Argus," Molly said with a smile. "How good it is to see you again. We're looking for the headmaster. Do you know where he is?"

"I have no idea, Molly," he said with less of a snarl than Harry was used to seeing on the usually nasty man. "But I know he's not in his office. Feel free to search the castle. Just don't make any mess," he said with an eye at Harry.

Molly laughed and patted his arm fondly. Harry shook his head in wonderment at the unusual behavior of Mr. Filch, but realized that no one could be dour around Molly Weasley. Heading in to the castle, Mrs. Weasley agreed with Harry's plan to search the dungeons first, to see if Dumbledore was with Snape.

"Professor Snape," she said, gently chiding Harry in a maternal way. Harry simply broke eye contact, not wanting to irritate this wonderful woman, but not willing to give the potions master any respect which was, in Harry's opinion, decidedly unearned.

Making their way to Snape's classroom and office, they were gratified to hear the voices of both Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. Firmly knocking on the door to alert the two wizards of their presence, Molly opened the door and greeted them with a summary of why she and Harry were there.

"Albus, Arthur needs your advice and assistance," she concluded. "I'm sure he's worried about people panicking over this news. And we know how they like to celebrate their victories, so the Aurors will have to be on full alert for the next few days."

Albus nodded his head and sighed. "Yes, Tom will certainly try to take advantage of this situation. But you say that Draco was there as well?" He asked this with a quick look towards Snape.

"Yes," said Harry, pointedly refusing to look at the potions master. "I watched him the whole time. He knew something was going on, I'm sure of it. He was just too cool and collected."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, turning his attention to the potions master. "What do you think? Was Draco involved in this or is there still a chance?"

"I don't know headmaster," Snape snarled, obviously displeased to discuss this in front of Harry. "But I'll do what I can to find out."

"I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore, but before I rely on any information he has, I need an explanation about the attack on my Aunt's house."

"Potter, it's not your place to demand anything of me," Snape said curtly.

"I wasn't talking to you," Harry growled. "I was talking to Professor Dumbledore."

The two glared at each other, scowling with venom in their eyes. Rage emanated from both of them, and things would have likely escalated if Dumbledore weren't there.

"Harry please," implored Dumbledore. "We have discussed this before. You know I have faith in Professor Snape, and I ask you to trust me."

"Headmaster," both Harry and Professor Snape said in unison with anger in their voices. "I do not think-"

"ENOUGH!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, startling all three of them, and probably herself as well. "Dumbledore has asked you put aside your feelings for each other for the moment, and by Merlin's beard you will do so."

"Molly," said Professor Dumbledore, trying to gain control of the discussion. "Thank you, but-"

"You as well Albus, you as well," Molly thundered. "I've had it with this absurd behavior. Albus, you think too much of your grand design, your master plan, but you fail to see the very human frailties we all exhibit. You forget that Harry is still a young man and, despite all he has taken upon himself, still needs guidance. But you must guide him not order him around, you must explain things to him. He's too intelligent to just do what you tell him to do, he thinks for himself, he questions, he's a normal teenager in that regard."

Turning to face Snape, she spoke in a cold, brittle voice. "Severus, let me point one thing out so that it is perfectly clear. HARRY IS NOT JAMES!" she thundered. "No matter how much you feel that you suffered at the hands of James, of Sirius, of whomever, Harry was not responsible for their actions. It is a miracle that Harry can even stand to be in the same room as you after the way you've treated him because of the memory of his dead father, and don't give me that look, you know what I'm talking about."

She continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "And no matter how much you want to blame others for your decision to follow Voldemort, however briefly, you made that decision on your own, and don't you displace your anger on anyone, much less Harry, for that mistake."

Finally turning to Harry, she spoke in a calm, but firm voice. "Harry, you have faced more than anyone could ever imagine, and you have faced it with a grace and dignity that few others could match. I know you have your doubts about Professor Snape, but Albus has his reasons, we all do, for trusting him. I ask you to accept that our reasons are valid. But I agree that you will need your own reasons for trusting him and you need to try. You don't have to like him, but you will have to work with him, he is our best link to the other side's plans. What he has done to you over the years is inexcusable, but it is not unforgivable. Please try to find a way to work with him, to trust him. It is our only way out of the darkness, to come together."

Addressing the three stunned men in front of her, she gave a small, sad smile. "Now Albus, the Minister of Magic has requested your presence in his office to help him in yet another bloody crisis. I would appreciate it if you would join him at your earliest opportunity. Harry, Severus, you owe it to yourselves to find a way to work together." Raising her hands at the outraged looks on both men, she continued. "If not to yourselves, then you owe it to the rest of us. To the Order, to the wizarding world, perhaps even more," she concluded with a grave voice.

"I am going up to the infirmary to look in on my son, Albus is going to the Ministry, and you two are going to settle this, once and for all. I don't care how long it takes, but end this feud, today," she said, her voice as cold and hard as steel as she swept from the dungeon classroom.

Albus looked over at the shell-shocked men on either side of him, his blue eyes twinkling fiercely as his lips quivered in a smirk. "It seems that Molly has quite an amazing power. The three of us were effectively cowed into submission, and she never even raised her wand."

Harry and Severus stood silently, glaring at each other, neither willing to be the first to budge. Dumbledore continued to grin as he made for the door.

"Harry, Severus, I hope that you will be guided by my wisdom," he said. "As you can see, I am hastening to comply with Molly's wishes. I suggest you do the same."

As Dumbledore left the classroom, he quietly pulled the door shut, closing the two wizards in behind him. Severus stood there, arms crossed, glaring at Harry with tremendous hatred in his eyes. Harry returned the fury, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he clenched his teeth while trying to figure out what he was going to do. This was not part of his overall plan, but Harry realized that Mrs. Weasley was right. The constant fights with Snape, and their mutual distrust, threatened to destabilize the entire Order, and Harry had to resolve this one way or the other.

"Professor," he said, clenching his stomach in determination. "I think Mrs. Weasley may be right. We need to talk."

Snape scowled at Harry. "If you think that I'm going to listen to that unstable woman and bow to her wishes-"

"Shut up," Harry growled, slamming his hands on the nearest table to make his point. "Mrs. Weasley deserves your respect, Professor, and I won't have you talk ill of her."

"Or else what Potter?" Snape sneered. "What do you propose to do?"

"_**LEGILIMENS," **_Harry shouted, with a flick of his wand as he whipped it out of his pocket.

Severus Snape was accustomed to keeping his shields up almost 24 hours a day every day of the year. The only time he ever let his shields down was when he was conversing with the Headmaster. It had started that way from the first time Snape came to Dumbledore seeking a way out of the Dark Lord's clutches. It was the only way Snape knew to demonstrate his sincerity, and trustworthiness, to the Headmaster. From that moment on, whenever the two were discussing the Dark Lord's activities in private, Snape immediately lowered his mental shields to prove to Dumbledore that he hadn't gone back. Dumbledore had protested that such action was unnecessary, but Snape had insisted. Over the years it became an ingrained habit, and today was no different. Since his shields had been down while conversing with Dumbledore, Snape was unprepared for Harry's mental assault. It was the first time in years that he had been caught so unprepared.

Harry dove in to Snape's mind, pushing past the basic defenses that were in place in all minds, stunned that Snape's mental barriers weren't up. _Then again_, Harry thought to himself, _mine weren't fully up either._ Delving into Snape's mind, Harry quickly threw up several barriers and mental grips on Snape's mind, as he had been taught by Mr. Smith, to keep Snape from ejecting him. Feeling secure, Harry probed out from his stronghold, searching for Snape's awareness.

_Professor,_ he inquired. _Professor Snape, I know you can hear me._

_Potter, get out of my mind you insufferable brat_, Snape sent back as he pounded at the grips Harry had in his mind. _How dare you do this!_

_Stuff it Professor_, Harry sent with irritation. _You weren't willing to talk, and this was the only way I could get your attention. Now, can we discuss this calmly?"_

"_GET OUT OF MY MIND, POTTER!" Snape snarled, launching another savage attack._

---XXX---

Arthur Weasley couldn't believe the predicament he found himself in. The Ministry was in shambles from the Death Eater attack, Malfoy had escaped, Diagon Alley was a mess from the Dementors, and Merlin knows what else was going to happen. Sitting behind his desk, he watched with morbid humor as Kingsley Shacklebolt paced back and forth across the office, cursing like a fiend.

"Arthur, I just don't understand how Malfoy escaped," Kingsley said with disgust. "We confiscated wands from his wife and child before we let them in there, scanned them both for potions or artifacts, and we would have heard any incantations or spells being cast. I just don't see how that could have happened."

"Could it have been done with assistance?" Arthur asked quietly, fearing the worst. An infiltration of Deatheaters into the ranks of the Aurors would be devastating to the Ministry, to the entire efforts against Voldemort.

"No," Kingsley said vehemently. "Samuel is a good man, a dedicated Auror, and loyal to the hilt. He was tricked, somehow."

"Can you be so sure?" Arthur asked. Kingsley grimaced and muttered something that Arthur didn't quite hear. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"You have to understand," Kingsley sighed. "I have no choice but to do this." Looking at the confused expression on the Minister's face, Kingsley grimaced and continued quickly. "Every three days I stun every Auror during a confidential meeting in my office. I strip them and look for the Dark Mark. Then I restore their clothing, and memory, and they never know I did it. I'm sorry Arthur, but I would have told you, it just was the only way I could be sure."

"Kingsley, I would never question your methods in securing our safety. It is an unorthodox approach, but what else can we do. We have to change our tactics to respond to these assaults. Why don't you write up a secret decree with that strategy as a Ministry order and I'll sign it and make it all official. Who watches the watchers, indeed," Arthur said with a sigh.

Kingsley looked at the Minister with deep respect and dedication. "Thank you Arthur. I appreciate the support. Now, do you want me to bring Narcissa in so you can question her?"

Arthur nodded his head grimly, and Kingsley walked over and opened up the door. Two burly Aurors, their eyes flashing fire, escorted Narcissa Malfoy into the office of the Minister of Magic. Her eyes were tear stained, and her nose was raw, obviously the woman had been weeping hysterically since she had her magic removed by the ritual in the courtroom chamber.

"Sit down," barked Kingsley, shoving her into a chair. "Drink," he ordered.

Numbly Narcissa took a glass laced with Veritaserum and drank the contents. Kingsley briefly led her through standard questions to ensure that the potion worked on a non-magical person, and turned to Arthur.

"Minister, do you want to interrogate her?" he asked.

Nodding, Arthur looked at Narcissa, his face almost sad, but the steel in his soul was evident. "Narcissa, how did you switch places with your husband?"

"The Dark Lord gave me two buttons for my robe," she began, her voice numb with despair. "He told me to put them in a glass of water with a hair of mine and a hair of my husband's. When I did, the water bubbled and fizzed and turned into Polyjuice Potion. Somehow Lucius knew this would happen. We quickly switched clothing before the Auror came back in, and I followed the Aurors to the courtroom and Lucius left while disguised as me."

Arthur and Kingsley exchanged somber glances. Arthur knew he'd have to talk to Severus about this newest twist of the Polyjuice potion. He would never have suspected something like that could work, but it obviously had. He also realized that he would have to significantly change procedures in handling prisoners. While Arthur knew that Harry had meant well in trying to preserve the dignity of Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the wizarding people of Britain as a whole, it was obvious that certain standards would need to be set aside for the duration of the war. Sighing at the worry of losing his own humanity in the process, Arthur knew he'd have to discuss any plans with Molly, and then Dumbledore and Harry. His thoughts returning to the present, he looked at Narcissa with a deep sadness.

"And your son, Narcissa?" he asked. "What was his involvement? He was with you up until your switch. I'm told that he suggested that your husband, disguised as you, return home, obviously to escape. And he stayed with you in the courtroom. What was his involvement? What does he know?"

Still under the effects of the Veritaserum, Arthur could see her struggle against having to tell the truth. Finally the power of the potion won out.

"The Dark Lord put him under Imperius, forcing him to comply," she said heavily.

Arthur and Kingsley exchanged glances. Neither believed that this was the whole truth.

"Why would he need to control Draco?" Kingsley asked. "Wouldn't Draco have agreed to help his father?"

"Draco is not a servant of the Dark Lord," Narcissa replied quickly, defending her son. "And the Dark Lord doesn't allow anyone to serve him unless he controls them or they have taken the Mark."

"So that means that you have taken the Mark," Arthur said grimly. "And despite the fact that you have already received your husband's punishment, you will face your own charges and penalties."

"No," gasped Narcissa. "You can't punish me any more than you already have. You've taken my magic and you've taken my husband's fortune. I have nothing else to give you."

"You have your freedom, which is now forfeit as an enemy of the wizarding world. You will be charged, tried, and sentenced to life imprisonment as soon as possible," Arthur replied coldly. "You will never see the light of day as a free woman."

"I will when the Dark Lord destroys you and your absurd Ministry, you fool," Narcissa said venomously. "You will all fall to his power, and you will all die. I will be free when he conquers you."

Arthur shook his head with a rueful smile and looked at her sadly. "If your hopes come true, I doubt I will be alive to care one way or the other. Nevertheless, I think our business here is through. Kingsley, have your men take her down to the new cells that we have established. Make sure Mrs. Malfoy is comfortable- she'll be staying for quite a while. You and I will talk with young Draco when Amelia is done with him. Perhaps he can be saved unlike his despicable parents."

Kingsley nodded his head with a broad smile and nodded to the Minister. Her eyes shooting daggers at the two men, Narcissa stood with all the dignity that she could muster and swept from the room, the burly Aurors escorting her to her cell.

Arthur exhaled explosively after she left and looked at Kingsley with a grimace. "What a bloody waste. I can't blame Harry for what he did, I sympathize with it, Merlin's beard, I agree with it. But we need to think about..." he said, trailing off.

"What, Arthur?" Kingsley asked. "Think about what?"

Arthur regarded his friend and fellow Order member. Realizing that it was not fair for him to burden the head of the Aurors with the delicacies of the conscience of the Minister of Magic, Arthur shook his head waved his hand wearily at his friend.

"Never mind, Kingsley. It's just been a long day in a series of long days. I rue the day that Harry put me in this spot, but I can honestly say that there are few I'd rather see making the decisions made in this office, not while we're facing what we're facing. Any way, let's finish this matter today. Would you see if Amelia is done with young Mr. Malfoy? Tell her I'd like to talk with her before we decide what to do with him."

Kingsley nodded silently, sensing the need for Arthur to collect his thoughts, and left the office. As he walked out into the hallway he was greeted by Albus Dumbledore, who had obviously just arrived from Hogwarts.

"He's in there," Kingsley said with a tilt of his head. "And Albus, help him out, please. He's under a lot of strain and today's been bad."

"I understand my friend, I understand," Albus replied. With a friendly nod, Albus sighed and knocked firmly on the door of Arthur's office before walking in.

---XXX---

Harry marveled at how much he had learned in such a short time from Mr. Smith. Snape, enraged by Harry's intrusion into his mind was attacking Harry's mind with an inchoate fury. Without the training that Mr. Smith had provided, Harry would have been expelled from Snape's mind almost immediately. It took every ounce of mental strength that Harry had to keep his grasp on the foothold he had established in Snape's mind, but somehow Harry managed. After what seemed like an eternity of mental attacks, Harry could sense that Snape was tiring from the constant assault. Probing gently while maintaining his grip on Snape's mind, Harry reached out again.

"_Professor, this is senseless," _Harry said._ "We have to talk. I'm sorry I invaded your mind, but it's the only way you'd talk with me. No one will overhear us, and we can't lie to each other here. Or to ourselves."_

Sensing that Snape was not about to bend, Harry decided on another approach. Sifting through his own memories, Harry enveloped Snape's awareness with them. Snape experienced every humiliation, every indignation, and every abuse that Harry had suffered at the hands of Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley. Harry forced Snape to feel the emotions that had guided Harry's young life, the lack of a loving parental influence, the lack of close friends until he came to Hogwarts, the confusion about his place in the world. Harry knew it paled in comparison to the likely trauma suffered by Snape in his lifetime of being a Slytherin, a Death Eater, and now a spy, but it certainly explained the way Harry viewed the world.

Harry focused on the thoughts that he had about his father, his mother, Sirius, and Remus, trying to show the complexity of those feelings and thoughts to Snape so that Snape would finally see that Harry was not his father. Yes, they had physical similarities, and certain personality traits in common, but Harry was not responsible for the childhood enmity between Severus Snape and James Potter, and Snape had no right to continue a childhood grudge against his dead rival's son.

Harry ran through his years at Hogwarts, the unfair attacks by Snape, the unreasoning hatred for a child who didn't even know magic existed, much less that he was the supposed hero of the magical world. The bias that Snape showed against Harry just for existing, the cruel pleasure Snape showed in punishing Harry at every opportunity. Harry never did anything to merit the abuse, at least not at first, but over the years Harry started responding to Snape's incomprehensible hatred.

Finally, Harry focused his thoughts on conversations he had previously had with Professor Dumbledore about Severus Snape. The compassion and respect, and love, that Dumbledore had for Snape shone through in Harry's thoughts, and Harry could sense that this was the final straw in getting to Snape.

"_I don't know why Professor Dumbledore trusts you as much as he does, but he does, and that means a lot to me, Professor Snape. But we need to come to our own understanding, for the sake of all that we are fighting for. Can we agree to put aside our differences and talk?"_

Harry knew that they would never be friends, they would never like each other, but he sensed that there was the possibility that they could have a grudging respect for each other. He knew that they had much to discuss, and hoped that Snape would agree.

Instead, Harry felt a renewed assault upon the anchors he had placed in Snape's mind. Mentally shrugging, Harry concentrated on maintaining that connection, hoping to wear down his formidable Potions master and come to an understanding. Several minutes later after Snape's attack subsided, Harry reached out again.

"_Professor, as you can see I've learned a lot this summer. I understand more now, about what I have to do, what the Order has to do, to defeat Voldemort-"_

"_**DO NOT SAY THAT NAME!"** _Snape thundered at Harry._ "**NOT IN MY PRESENCE AND NOT IN MY MIND!"**_

With an overwhelming force, Snape renewed his assault on Harry's mind. The force of the desperate fury stunned Harry, and his grip loosened, allowing Snape to get a lever against Harry's intrusion into his mind. In a split second Snape finally succeeded and shoved Harry's mind out of his. Harry, still stunned by the mental assault from Snape, found himself flying forcefully backwards across the dungeon classroom. Crashing into the wall, he looked dazedly at his Potions professor who had fallen to his knees, gasping for breath as he muttered under his breath, obviously trying to calm himself down.

As Snape's breathing started to calm down, he looked over at Harry with a panicked expression on his face. "GET OUT!" he screamed in a begging tone. "Get out of here, now. Go to the hallway and wait for me if you must, but LEAVE! **NOW!**"

Suddenly, with a convulsive movement, Snape clutched at his left arm, his hand grabbing onto the spot where the foul Dark Mark was burned into his arm. Moaning in indescribable agony, Snape kept muttering under his breath.

Unsure of what to do, Harry decided to follow the pleadings of Snape. Scrambling to his feet, Harry rushed to the door, threw it open, and left the classroom. Panting heavily, Harry closed the door, wondering what was happening, when a bone-chilling scream sounded behind the recently closed door.

---XXX---

"Albus," Arthur said in greeting to the venerable wizard. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I've certainly buggered everything up, haven't I?"

"Not at all, my friend," Dumbledore said with the customary twinkle in his eyes. "Not at all. We can not control all events, or even that many when you get right down to it. But we can learn from our errors and we can ensure that we don't make the same mistakes twice."

Arthur nodded his head with a grim smile and quickly briefed Dumbledore on how Lucius had managed to escape.

"Tom always was a clever boy," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "But I trust we can develop methods of dealing with this new development. Better observation of prisoners, and perhaps we can ask Severus to see if there is a way to detect the presence of Polyjuice in this new form."

"I agree," said Arthur. "But we also need to come up with a better plan of action for how we deal with Deatheaters."

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked with an intense look at his friend.

"I think we need to be more aggressive, we must bring the war to them. We have to find a better way to secure prisoners, when we capture them, but we also need to think about how to deal with those that are too dangerous to try to capture."

Dumbledore looked calmly at the Minister, his eyebrows raised in deep thought. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"How do we deal with Riddle, or Malfoy, or the Lestranges, or the rest of his elite?" Arthur asked with a weary voice. "We can't ask the Aurors, or the Order, to risk their lives to take any of them alive, can we? But can we, can I, live with ordering our forces to use lethal force?"

Dumbledore regarded his friend and loyal supporter with compassion etched all over his ancient face. For several moments the two wizards stared past each other, both reflecting on the decision they were grappling with.

"When I set out to defeat Grindelwald," Albus said into the silence. "I was not prepared to use lethal force. In fact, I almost lost my life once when I spared the life of one of his followers. After I thought he was subdued, a wizard by the name of Anthony Blarden managed to loosen the bonds I had conjured. When my back was turned he got hold of a dagger somehow and stabbed me in my stomach, leaving the blade in.

"It was instinctive, really, what happened next," the venerable wizard said, tears standing in his eyes. "In a flash I spun around and spat out the first curse that came to mind.

"It changes you, when you kill another human being, Arthur," Dumbledore said heavily. "You never forget the circumstances when you take someone else's life, not if you have a conscience. You see, in my haste, in my agony, the only spell that came to mind was a blasting curse. My wand was no more than a foot away from him, and I had enough power in me, enough rage, to tear down whole buildings. All they found were bits and pieces, nothing bigger than a fingernail, really. But what was worse, in an odd way, was what I saw next. He had another dagger on him, which he must have dropped as I sent the spell that destroyed him."

Arthur stared wordlessly, not sure what to say, and he was relieved almost when the ancient wizard continued.

"So, you see, I had no other recourse, and if I hadn't acted on that instinct, it is possible I would not be here today. I still regret that I took his life, though he was an enemy, but I am able to see that it was necessary. I have had the misfortune of killing several wizards in my life. All would be considered to have deserved it, Grindelwald especially, and in each case I had no other options available to me, yet I still feel those actions, even some decades later. But it is that pain, that remorse, which keeps us human.

"One should never take a life unless it is in the direst of situations, but in those situations, we need not worry about losing our touch with humanity. I think we can craft acceptable rules of conduct for our friends in the Order and your Aurors, rules that will help us maintain our link to humanity, while still enabling us to defeat Voldemort's forces."

"Thank you, Albus," Arthur said with a hoarse voice. "Thank you. These are not the best of times, and I find it a struggle to see how we will defeat him."

"But we will my friend, we will. There is always hope."

---XXX---

Harry sat in the hallway, gasping for breath after crashing through the doorway, fleeing the potions classroom. Wondering what caused the panic in Snape's voice, he listened intently to the haggard breathing coming from the classroom and the muttering from Snape as he was trying to restore his mental shields.

Harry's scar burned fiercely, flaring intensely with Voldemort's anger. With a flash of insight, Harry realized that he had called Voldemort's attention to the open mind of the Death Eater turned ostensible spy, and that Snape was in incredible danger, especially if he was as trustworthy as Dumbledore had suggested.

As panic raced through his mind, Harry realized that there was only one way he could save Snape's secret from Voldemort, possibly even Snape's life. Taking a deep breath as he tried to control his worries, Harry quietly focused his mind in the way he had been taught by Mr. Smith. Forcing the pain of the scar connection away from his thoughts, Harry sought the control and serenity of his mind. When he reached that calm point, Harry took another deep breath as he prepared to fight for the life of a man he wasn't entirely sure deserved saving.

Pushing out of his mind, away from his body, Harry reached out along the connection of the curse scar to the swirling pit of foul emotions emanating from Voldemort. Waves of fury radiated from the evil man and Harry could sense that all of Voldemort's attention was focused on the mental attack on Snape. Snape screamed in terrible agony as Voldemort bludgeoned against his mind.

"_What are you hiding, Severus?" _Voldemort asked as he battered against the feeble barriers Snape had managed to scramble together. _"Your loyalty is in question, and I demand proof of your fidelity."_

Snape screamed again in agony. "_My Lord," _he thought desperately. _"I have proven my faithfulness to you. But if Dumbledore senses that my barriers have been breached, he will question whether he can trust me any more, and my use to you will be ended."_

Harry was even more confused than ever. He didn't know whether to trust Snape, or to let him suffer with the continued mental attack of Voldemort. If anyone deserved it, Harry thought harshly, it would be Snape. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Harry pushed roughly against Voldemort's awareness.

"_Who are you torturing now, Tom?"_ Harry asked with a savage shove, trying to break the concentration of his enemy.

"_What are you doing boy?" _Voldemort asked in surprise, while keeping up his attack on Snape's mind. _"How did you_ _get in my mind?"_

"_You aren't the only one who figured out the role my scar plays. You've known that we're connected for some time, I've just now figured that out. Now tell me, who are you torturing today? Are you punishing one of your lackeys or attacking an innocent?"_

Voldemort let out a startled snarl of rage. "_How dare you, boy? You think to match strength with me?"_

Even with Voldemort's power and vast knowledge of Dark magic, it was impossible for him to concentrate on both Potter and Snape. Despite his desire to get into Snape's mind, Voldemort knew he couldn't risk letting Potter get past his own defenses, which was possible if he was mentally occupied elsewhere. So his concentration shifted and he focused his mental rage on Potter.

"_Tom, I've already figured out how to keep you out of my mind, as you've seen me do already, so tell me, who are you torturing?" _Harry said calmly, relieved that Voldemort's attention was focused on Harry. Now possibly Snape could restore his mental barriers to keep himself safe from Voldemort's fury.

"_**DON'T CALL ME THAT, BOY!"**_ Voldemort howled with rage as he tried to force his way into Harry's mind.

"_Do you prefer Mr. Riddle, Half-Blood? Or is it Tommy, the Muggle's son?"_ Harry asked sarcastically.

Fortunately Harry was prepared for the fury of Voldemort's assault and quickly pulled himself out of Voldemort's mind, rushing back to his own body in a flash and restoring his own barriers as he felt Voldemort's furious attack on his mind. Harry concentrated on his training exercises and quickly built back up those barriers that would keep the evil wizard out of his mind, and managed to succeed. Bracing himself as the onslaught continued, Harry used the calming techniques he had learned to maintain control and keep the evil wizard at bay.

What seemed like an eternity passed by as Voldemort assaulted Harry's mind, but failing to grab a hold on Harry's mind, the Dark Lord abandoned his attempt with a howl of rage. As quickly as the attack had started, it ended, allowing Harry to slump against the wall and take a deep breath.

---XXX---

Gasping for breath, Severus Snape clutched his hands on the counter, pulling himself up from the floor in his dungeon classroom. _Damn that insufferable brat_, he thought to himself. _He knows not what he has wrought with his little escapade._

"Professor Snape?" a voice asked loudly, obviously a repeated attempt to gain his attention. Snape weakly lifted his head up to look with scorn at the teenager in the doorway.

"I thought I told you to get out," Snape snarled.

"You are welcome," Harry muttered under his breath. "Professor," he said, loud enough for Snape to hear, "I wanted to see if you were okay, to see if you needed anything."

"More likely come to gloat," Snape said with a heavy sneer. "Your heroism saved the day, Potter. Isn't that what you want me to say?"

"No," Harry said with tightly controlled anger as he ground out his words. "I realize that this episode was _partially_ my fault, but you refused to listen to me." Taking a deep breath to overcome the anger that the foul man in front of him usually pulled out of Harry's subconscious, he continued in a measured tone. "Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, they're right sir. Our feud cannot continue to divide those around us, it weakens us and divides us, when we have to pull together to defeat, erm, _Tom_."

"Always playing the dutiful hero, aren't we?"

"No more so than you playing the aggrieved loner. But we have to reach a truce. I've shown you what's in my mind, why your preconceptions about me are so absurd. Can you really be so willing to hold on to a childhood grudge against my father and blame me for any indignities he made you suffer?"

"You know not whereof you speak," Snape said bitterly.

"No, I don't, not really," Harry sighed. "But I am not my father. I never knew him, I have no real memories of him, at least none of my own. So you cannot say that he raised me to hate you. I have only reacted in kind to the way that you have treated me. Do I need to show you again the pain you caused me by hating me even before I knew who you were?"

"This is foolishness."

"No," argued Harry. "It is foolishness to continue the feud you had with my father, with Sirius, with Remus, and take it out on me. It is foolishness to blame me for your current predicament with Riddle.

---XXX---

Voldemort was screaming.

His Death Eaters could not tell what was causing his outrage, and none were brave enough to enter his chambers to discover the reason. Despite their own love of thuggery that led them to join his ranks, most of the dark wizards had a strong sense of survival and self-preservation.

The last time the Master had been in such a rage was when Dumbledore had thwarted his plans at the Ministry, and five Death Eaters died at the Dark Lord's own hand. Granted, they were new recruits and thus unprepared for the terrible power of his Cruciatus Curse, but they were dead nonetheless.

"LUCIUS!" the angry wizard bellowed with terrible rage. Lucius Malfoy, chief among the lieutenants of the Dark Lord, paled with fear at being summoned. But knowing that delaying his obeisance would only add to the Master's rage, Lucius quickly entered the Dark Lord's chambers. Falling to his knees in order to kiss his master's robe, Lucius steeled himself for the inevitable pain he was about to receive.

"Yes, my master?" he asked, pouring as much subservience as the proud Malfoy line could ever possibly put into his voice.

"Bring me your son. He is to be marked and given a mission of utmost importance. And you will have a mission of your own."

"Yes, my Lord. I will bring Draco immediately. May I ask what my mission is to be?"

"I want you to kill Severus Snape."

---XXX---

AN – okay, took me forever to update, no good excuses so I won't waste your time with them. I'm hoping for one more before HBP comes out and I honestly don't know what I'll do after that. Maybe I'll continue this story or start a new one, we'll have to see what happens to my muse after I read the most anticipated book of the past two years.


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